Haunting Past
by Tilthanial
Summary: AU books 3 to 7. When Dumbledore brings in outside help to cover Hogwarts security, Life for Harry and his pals changes dramatically. Please review!
1. Summertime

_Fire licked greedily at the air. Blood flowed down from the stairwell, pouring onto the grey carpet. At the top of the stairs, side ripped and gashed, stood a trembling figure, face contorted in such rage that none could stand his gaze. In his hands, hands that were slashed and burned from frantic digging, was a dead woman. Before the image became clear several people rushed into view, blocking his vision. As the light started fading, he caught another glimpse of the woman's face. The face burned into his mind like a dagger. Face frozen in shock and pain, limbs twisted around as if she were a puppet, Lily Potter was truly dead. The image lost focus and rapidly fell apart. At the last moment, he heard one name shouted out. _

_Vandermine!_

"Potter! Open this door now!" The door shuddered on its frame as Uncle Vernon's meaty fist pounded on the door. Harry Potter blinked sleepily and reached for his alarm clock. Rubbing his eyes, he examined it in shock. 4:21AM. _What on earth could possibly wake Uncle Vernon at this hour? What, that is, except magic?_

The door shook again as Uncle Vernon applied his humongous shoulder to the door. There was a note of panic in his voice. The blows to the door came more frequently. "Potter will you hurry up. You don't have all night, you know. I'll give you to the count of three."

_Oh_, Harry thought, _so _I_ have to do something_,_ do I_? Harry rose luxuriously from his bed and slipped on a robe. The robe was old and worn, previously one of Dudley's. Dudley had given it to him after he had spilled ketchup and mustard all over it during one of his many burgerfests with his buddies. They had those all the time during the rugby season. Harry had asked them about the Muggle's rugby game. Dudley never gave him an answer; he just chased him off with threats and taunts. Not that it mattered. Quidditch looked far more interesting.

Uncle Vernon's voice drained into a helpless plea as time passed. _Only magic messes with him this much._ After approaching the door with much deliberation, he cracked the door open and smirked at Uncle Vernon. "Do you want something?"

Uncle Vernon shoved an opened letter into his hand and fled down the hall without a backwards glance. Harry watched his retreat curiously. The door slammed loudly as he dove into his room. _That was most definitely un-Vernon like._ Unfolding the letter carefully, he sat down on the bed. He didn't have a lamp in his room, so reached for his wand. It was gone! The letter disappeared from his mind immediately as realization of his trouble hit him. The wand had been right by his bed when he had gone to sleep. _Blast that Dudley!_ _That's what he was doing in my room._

He hastily snatched up his glasses and rushed out into the hall-way. Dudley's door slowed him for the barest moment as he charged through it, anger and fear dulling the pain in his arm. Splinters from the hinges slashed through his robe, cutting his arm. He did not care. It took an instant for him to survey the scene.

In the middle of the room, surrounded by chipped blades, broken hammers, and empty lighters was his wand. Dudley paced furiously around it, chest heaving from a recent exertion. He spun around to face Harry, as he entered. Fear crossed his face as he imagined what he was in for. Then he realized Harry was without his wand. That made him an excellent target to take his frustration out on.

"You!" both shouted at the same time. Before either realized what was happening they dove headfirst into each other, fists and legs flailing. Dudley gained the immediate advantage because of his bulk. He threw his bulky frame into Harry's charge and delivered a massive headbutt. Harry stumbled backwards and rubbed his aching head. Dudley laughed triumphantly and waddled forward. By the time he closed the distance, Harry had recovered his wits, sidestepped Dudley, and shoved him hard out the door. Dudley fell flat on his paunch with a thud. There was a sucking noise as he rolled over. His face was red and he was breathing heavily.

Harry bent over to pick up his wand. The smooth surface was not in the least bit scratched or chafed by all of Dudley's efforts. Turning around, he aimed the wand threateningly at his fat cousin. "You took my wand!" His whole body shook with anger. Dudley tried to push himself into the carpet, all color drained from his face. "You took my wand and tried to destroy it!" Words of magic began to form on his lips as he thrust the wand into Dudley's stomach.

Uncle Vernon's bedroom door burst open. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia stumbled out onto the scene. Harry instantly regretted his wand's aim. They all froze for an instant before Aunt Petunia erupted in screams and tears.

"Dudders! What has he done to you?" She scrambled over and threw herself down on him, soaking him in tears and kisses. "Is my poor little Dudley alright? What did he do?""

Uncle Vernon approached him furiously, jaws working up and down as he formulated his tirade. "What is that blasted object doing out in the house? Haven't I told you to lock it up? Do you want a month in the cupboard? After all I've done for you…"

Harry started to protest feebly. He knew he had already lost. At the very best he might be able to keep his room. "Dudley took it. I was getting it back!"

An upraised hand silenced him. He flinched slightly as Uncle Vernon made as if to strike him. "Don't talk back to me with your stupid lies. I saw you pointing the wand at him. If that ever happens again…" He purposefully trailed off at the end in attempt to make it even more menacing.

The front door opened downstairs. Everyone stopped talking and stood still, listening for noise. The only noise coming from the downstairs was the creaking of the door as it swayed on its hinges. For two minutes they sat there, until the family cat slipped upstairs. Uncle Vernon exhaled forcibly, fear melting from his countenance. "Just the cat, my dear. I will go shut the door." He started towards the door, giving Harry a meaningful glare. He would finish his tirade later.

Then the lights went out. Aunt Petunia gave a muffled scream and buried her head in Uncle Vernon's arm. Dudley lay on the ground whimpering like a baby. Uncle Vernon pointed at Harry and whispered hoarsely.

"Go check it out, Potter."

_Crap. Why me? _Harry raised his wand shakily and shuffled forward. At the top of the stairs he paused and crouched down, ears straining to pick out unnatural sounds. His eyes scanned the area on the first floor below the stairwell. Nothing moved. None of his family dared to breath.

"Lost something?" A gruff voice asked behind him. A panicked cry escaped his lips and he jumped forward. Whirling around, he lashed out instinctively with his wand. A hand caught the wand in mid air and dragged him forward into the grip of the intruder.

The figure tightened its grip on him as Harry tried to push off. "It's not going to work, kid. Stop struggling and I will let go. I didn't come here to fight you after all."

"Oh really?" Harry struck the man in the chest and yelped as his fist encountered a metal breastplate. "Then what do you think you are doing breaking into my house like this?"

The man released Harry and sighed. Harry stumbled backwards, cradling his hand. "Didn't you get the letter that I sent you? I even took the trouble of sending it by Muggle mail so that you could get it. It should have arrived yesterday."

Harry stared at him incredulously and blinked. "Muggle mail, letter, what?" horror dawned on him as he remembered the letter that Uncle Vernon had given him. "Whoops. I haven't read it yet." He brushed past the man and ducked into his room. Grabbing the forgotten letter he returned to the hallway, where he noticed Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley frozen mid-action. "Here it is."

"That explains that." The newcomer nodded semi-appreciatively. "At least you got it. Anyway then, since you don't know my name," he stretched out his hand. "My name is Lucas Vandermine. And you are Harry Potter."

Vandermine! The same name that was in his dream. That name was somehow related to his mother's death. Harry's mind swam with questions and he grasped the hand a little too enthusiastically. "How do you do, then?"

"Fairly well. If you had read the letter things would have been much easier. Now, I need to talk to you privately." He glanced around carefully.

Harry looked around in confusion. "But... there is no one here." He pointed at his family. "Or do they count?"

Lucas gave them a menacing look. "Yes they count. They may not be able to move or respond, but they can still hear. Not that they'd want to repeat anything they would hear, though."

"Very well then, my room is right here." Harry glanced down at the note quickly as he led the way into the room.

_Dear Harry,_

_This letter is to be kept secret from everyone, including Ron and Hermione, until I deem appropriate. Lucas Vandermine will be overseeing security at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year and, if necessary, for years to come. He is in the process of examining key characters such as yourself for the purpose of discerning what he, and his helpers, might face. Do not hold back anything that you would tell me. Forgive his questionable appearance and nature. He will particularly focus on your scar and its occurring pain._

_Albus Dumbledore_

Harry sized Lucas up slowly. He was indeed an imposing and intimidating character. A black dragon-scale cloak covered his body from head to toe. Underneath this cloak was an array of magical and Muggle weaponry, most of which Harry had never seen before. On his right hip, slung in a holster, were both a revolver and a wand of unusual length. Strapped to his arms and legs were a variety of blades and vials. Then his face came in view as the room lightened. Harry gasped unconsciously in awe.

Two sets of scars ran down both of his cheeks just behind his eyes. In between the white scar tissue were set two grey eyes that seemed to burn with intensity. Light brown hair hung loosely around his shoulders in a tumbled mess almost as bad as Harry's. Muscle sinew bulged out along his neck, creating a smooth curve from shoulder to jaw. He was butch.

Harry sat down absentmindedly on his bed and waved to a chair. "Here's a seat, if you want it." The grey eyes never left him as Lucas strode over and seated himself. An uncomfortable silence fell between them. Lucas' eyes bored through Harry as if he were searching his skull for cracks. Harry sat quite still, his attempt to start a conversation having failed miserably.

The silence lasted for several minutes until Harry, unable to bear it, stood up irritatedly and exclaimed, "Dumbledore sent you here for a reason. Would you mind starting, or do you want to stare at me like this until dawn breaks?" The grey eyes did not even blink during his outburst. He shuddered ashamedly and looked at his feet, suddenly feeling very foolish. The eyes continued their scrutiny. They made Harry angry, knowing that behind those eyes were answers to questions that he desperately wanted.

At last the eyes turned away. Lucas leaned back in his chair and nodded to himself appreciatively. "Your mind is very complex and strong for one of your age, even with your past experiences. I have all that I need. Good day." With a dramatic sweep of his cloak he rose and left the room. The light faded as he exited.

Harry gaped at the departing man. Five minutes wasted staring at him and he 'knew all he needed.' _What kind of psycho is this? _Harry followed him downstairs. "Wait." Harry said as he caught up with him at the door way. "What do you mean when you say that you know all that you need. All that you did was stare at me. Who are you? What do you know about my mother?""

Lucas Vandermine smiled at him. "Sometimes knowledge is best passed silently. Not that you really need to know... I was measuring your patience and temper. You lasted longer than most others before responding." He trudged through the tall grass outside the house and mounted a black, fire-blazed motorcycle. "As to your questions about your mother..." he strapped his helmet on. "I was the first one to find your house after Voldemort came."

Harry stood rooted to the spot, gazing stupidly at the figure receding in the dawn.


	2. The Carriage

Chapter Two

_Frantic gasping. Pain clutching at his lungs. His vision swam as he ran forward, desperation energizing his steps. Before him, wreathed in blinding smoke and flame, the ruined house shined with an evil light. The Dark Mark fluttered wildly in the sky, as if the heavens were struggling to remove the foul sign._

_He reached the front gate. Bulling the iron gate aside, he carried on straight into the house, oblivious to neighbors' warnings. A sheet of fire danced around him, crackling merrily as it mocked his fears. The door shattered as he yanked it aside. He was too late._

The train jolted to a stop. Harry's head slid forward and bumped into the luggage rack. Blinking drowsiness from his eyes, he straightened up and turned to the window.

"Ow." He remarked casually. "Ugh. What happened?"

"Hey Harry," Ron's voice reached him before the door started to slide open. His friend's face shook with laughter. Hermione trailed in behind him, face burning in anger.

"Hi Ron, Hermione." Harry waved casually at them. His mind wandered slowly over the dream. The dreams had been coming more consistently since Lucas Vandermine had come to his house. They were quite regular now. "Are we there yet?"

"Yes, we are there." Hermione stretched out past his head to reach her bags, not pausing to acknowledge him.

"Harry, you just missed the most hilarious incident since my wand backfired." Ron grinned from ear to ear.

Harry cracked a smile, the memory of Ron's broken wand fresh in his mind. "What happened? Did Neville do something?" Neville had a talent for embarrassing accidents.

"No. You see, Malfoy, Crabbe..." Ron began eagerly, but was interrupted by the train whistle. He started in surprise and hefted his luggage. "I'll tell you outside. If we hurry we can get a carriage to ourselves." He and Hermione hurried out, leaving Harry by himself to struggle with his things. As he exited the cabin he saw Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle charge out of the teachers' coach in a panic. They were soaked from head to toe in water.

When he had dropped off his belongings he joined Ron and Hermione in a carriage. They greeted him coolly, still arguing about whatever the earlier incident was. Harry sat down quickly and leaned forward, curious to discover what had occurred.

"What happened to Malfoy? He was soaked." He fervently wished that Draco had done something stupid. "What did he do?"

Ron and Hermione turned to each other and exchanged evil looks. Hermione faced Harry and began in her matter-of-fact voice. "Ron, Neville and I went looking for the trolley lady and ran into Malfoy and his pals." She paused and rolled her eyes. "Can you believe them? They were already bullying a group of first years who had been terrified by the dementors. He was scaring them with tales of their 'blood-hunger' and such. He tried to extort protection money from them. Honestly, the nerve of the-""

Ron broke in, eyes shining. "We made fun of him. I think we hit a nerve, because Malfoy tried to sic Crabbe and Goyle on us. Then guess what happened."

Hermione silenced him with one of her infamous frosty glares. When Ron settled down Hermione cleared her throat and continued. "Just as he told dumb and dumber to attack, guess who stepped in from the teacher's room."

Harry thought for a moment and replied. "Was it Professor Flitwick?" The thought of Draco receiving a scolding of any kind from Flitwick made him smile. Flitwick wouldn't hurt a fly. He was so timid.

Hermione shook her head. Ron snickered, "Flitwick scold Draco? He is too afraid of getting sacked by Mr. Malfoy to touch Draco."

Now Harry's curiosity had peaked. His mind raced as he tried to think of who had been on the train. "Then who was it? I did not think that any other teachers were on the train."

Ron leaned forward excitedly. "Lucas Vandermine! Draco had the worst luck. Of all people, ordering an assault on students in front of him is like asking to get beaten."

Harry started in shock. He accidentally bashed his head on the wall. Muttering to himself, he returned to his seat. Vandermine again. The last place that Harry had expected to see him was on the Hogwarts train. Now that he thought about it, it made sense. Security couldn't be too tight with Sirius Black running amok.

Ron ignored his jump and continued without pause. "Lucas took one look at Crabbe and Goyle and floored them without even speaking. Both of them were hanging upside-down in seconds!" Harry laughed at the thought of Crabbe and Goyle hanging from the air. "Draco's face was whiter than white. Lucas rounded on him. Man, you should have seen him."

Hermione pressed herself further into the comfort of her cushions and grimaced despite the humor. "I am amazed that Malfoy is still alive. After what Vandermine has done in the past, the first thing I expected was to see Malfoy blood over the whole train-car."

Ron glanced at her, clearly annoyed by this remark. "Stop being so negative." He checked to see that Harry agreed before continuing. "He did some bad things in the past, sure, but Malfoy deserved what he got." He turned back to Harry. "Vandermine pinned him to the ground and destroyed him! Not literally," he added hastily, glaring at Hermione's disgusted expression."

"He stripped him to his underwear, soaked him in freezing water, and then he rolled him up into a ball and chucked him into the next car." Her voice flowed with loathing. "If Dumbledore really set him as head of security, then we won't have to worry about any fights this year. The participants would be dead before they could blink."

Harry sat spellbound as he took in all they said. He interrupted as they paused to exchange dirty looks. "What is your problem with Vandermine, Hermione?" He nervously cleared his throat to get their attention. Those two fighting before they arrived at school was not a good sign.

Hermione gaped at him. "You don't know who he is?"

Harry shook his head. Ignoring Ron's scandalized expression, he answered. "No I don't," he considered telling them about his encounter but decided against it. "I haven't heard of him until just now," he lied.

Ron could not reply fast enough, "He is the coolest Auror that ever lived. He single-handedly took on twelve Death Eaters and..."

"Murdered them." Hermione finished dryly. She brushed aside Ron's injured look and continued. "He is the world's biggest psychopath beside He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Oh, he was 'good' once," her voice dripped with disgust. "He followed all the rules and played along for a while…"

Ron picked up where she left off. "He was the Ministries' number one Death Eater hunter. He fought wizards, he hunted werewolves, he faced down giants…"

"…until He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named slaughtered his family. After that he turned psycho, hunting down and mutilating the Death Eaters that were involved." Hermione shuddered and leaned closer, as if she was afraid to speak of him loudly. "He burnt them alive, quartered them, butchered their carcasses, tortured them beyond recognition, and other insane mutilations. Some say that he eats the flesh of his victims."

"But that's only because they couldn't find enough of the remains for a complete body." Ron paused for a moment, feeling his own body's revulsion at the thought.

Harry's insides turned cold as he thought of his proximity with the man several weeks ago. That was just not right. Revenge he could see, but those other actions were disgusting. Only something inhuman could do that.

"He says that his actions are based off of revenge and the need for justice. Most think that he is actually a vampire or werewolf and used his family's death as an excuse to satiate his blood-lust."

Harry turned from Hermione to Ron and back. "What do you think?"

Hermione leaned back and sighed. "Judging by what I have seen so far, he probably is insane. Dumbledore is making a mistake allowing him near the School."

Ron scoffed at her idea. "Insane? You have to be a genius to take on twelve Death Eaters and come out unscathed." He pulled Harry closer and whispered confidentially, "I talked with my mom about him. Even the Ministry doesn't touch him. They are too afraid of him to curb his actions. He has the biggest fan club in the wizarding world," he shot a nasty look at Hermione, "next to Blondheart." Hermione scowled and sulked in her side of the carriage. "I would die to get his autograph."

"If you died, then how could you get the autograph?"

The three students jumped in surprise. Lucas appeared outside their carriage wearing the same outfit as when he was at Harry's house. "Dead people don't exactly go around asking for signatures. Ghosts might, but then you couldn't really enjoy it." His gaze swept over the carriage. "You three have been sitting here for two minutes. Everyone is getting a little 'impatient'. I'd hurry up if I were you."

Harry winced as Lucas opened the door. He made a mock bow as the three students left the carriage. Ron gaped open-mouthed at his idol and tripped on the last step. Scrambling to his feet, he hurried off, praying that he had not ruined his image in front of the lean, tough Auror. Lucas motioned for Harry to stay as he exited. Harry stood to the side and waited. Vandermine held out his hand to help Hermione down the steps, but she pointedly avoided his outstretched hand. Casting a worried look to Harry, she mouthed out 'Good luck' and dashed off to catch up with the others.

Vandermine watched her go and chuckled mirthlessly. "Funny," he remarked, "teenage girls all seem to have that reaction. Oh well." He turned to face Harry. "Is she your girlfriend?" Harry's cheeks turned red and Vandermine continued. "Never mind. You are probably too young to be interested in girls yet." Harry struggled to reply as Vandermine bent down to retrieve up a book that Hermione had dropped. He studied the inside cover and frowned. "Granger, huh? That explains a bit. I've heard of her already from Dumbledore."

Harry held out his hand for the book. "Look," he began apprehensively, "I really need to get inside. Can I take the book and go, sir?"

Vandermine hesitated before slipping the book into his cloak. "Go on in. I needed to interview her anyway, and this gives me a more practical reason to talk to her. See you at the feast." He abruptly turned on his heel and vanished, leaving Harry standing speechless yet again.

Harry turned towards the Great Hall and rushed off, mind racing. _More practical? What does he want with Hermione?_ His regard of Vandermine sank lower and lower the longer that he stayed in his presence. His fear grew respectively.


	3. Finding their place

Chapter Three

_Two scorched skeletons on the ground. One a woman's, the other a small babe's. Hand in hand, the bone-corpses stretched for the door, struck down in flight. The woman's body covered the little one's, protecting it even in death from the harsh flames surrounding it. A green glow saturated the room. It was too late. Voldemort's deed was done. The echoes of his hideous laughter reverberated from the ceiling, mocking his tears._

What a pity they died defenseless. _The echoes cried._ A real man would have been there to save them._ He raised his tear-stained face to answer angrily. The voices increased in volume, adding the wails of the victims to the growing din. _Coward!_ They accused him, pain and resentment filling the voices._ Die now,_ they screeched._ Die as you live, spineless sniveling weakling! _Blackness dropped around like a veil._

The feast was well under way. Harry and Ron dug ravenously into steaks while exchanging summer vacation stories. Harry hadn't really gone anywhere, as usual. He had spent most of his summer in his house. Ron, on the other hand, had gone to a Quidditch tournament in Scotland. He had seen several teams play, but couldn't remember which played which.

Hermione had picked a seat well away from them where she could sulk in peace. Every so often she cast Harry and Ron venomous glances as they continued on, blatantly ignoring her pout. Slight pangs of guilt plagued Harry during the meal, but he did not mind much. She was stubborn, that was all. By the end of the meal she would be back and apologizing. As the meal ended, however, she showed no sign of changing. Harry wiped his mouth off and cut Ron short in the middle of a Quidditch excursion.

"Should we apologize to Hermione?" he asked. "She usually doesn't start out this bad. Beginning the year on the wrong foot would not be pleasant. Especially considering she does some of our homework for us."

Ron thought slowly and replied. "Let her go pout. She is just trying to convince us of 'Vandermine's evilness'." He rolled his eyes in disgust. "She is jealous that Lockhart was not everything that he said he was. Vandermine could own Lockhart with one finger."

"Yeah, so could I…" Harry listened distractedly while he watched Hermione. She avoided his gaze and turned to a nearby Gryffindor. Harry grimaced and nudged Ron. "Does everyone know that Vandermine has a job here yet? One would think that news of him would sweep like a brushfire. From what you've told me, he's quiet a celebrity…"

As if to answer his question, the Great Hall doors swung open. Dumbledore entered the room followed by Vandermine and three others. Dumbledore marched in with his usual gait and air of authority, albeit his mouth was twisted upwards in a grin. Vandermine was walking just behind him to his side, walking stiffly and conversing in low tones with Dumbledore. The other three were shoulder to shoulder and were chatting amiably, ignoring the eyes watching them.

Their entrance drew the whole school's attention. Not a sound was heard except the gasps of awe coming from a group of Ravenclaws. Harry was not surprised. They were an impressive sight.

Lee Jordan whispered to Ron out of the corner of his mouth. "Is this for real? Is that Vandermine and his Shrike Squad?"

Ron did not take his eyes off of the four figures as he answered. "Yeah, that is them. Do you see their badges?"

Jordan ogled the men and woman of the famous group. "Wow." He let out a long breath. "They are so cool."

Cool indeed, if not dead terrifying. Ankle length cloaks died blood-red hung over their shoulders. In each one's right hand was a three foot dueling wand. The blades on the wands glistened like fire. Under their cloaks hung so many weapons and tools that Harry could only imagine their uses. Dragon scale boots clicked in unison as they marched down the middle aisle, eyes fixed on Dumbledore's chair. They each looked well enough equipped to take on a small army.

Harry studied each face as the four walked by. Vandermine's face had not changed. He still had his dragon-scale cloak on and his eyes darted between various students as he passed them. He looked straight at Harry for a moment and nodded his head a mere fraction. It was just noticeable enough for Harry to sense a handful of people turn from the group to stare at Harry in wonder.

The next man was a muscular giant, easily standing six foot five. He made Lockhart look like a dead hobo. His face was smoothly set with light blue eyes and a blond mullet. His figure reminded Harry of something he had seen on the old propaganda posters from the Muggle World War. He had seen the poster when he had snuck into the library and started reading the open book. A grin flittered on the man's face as several adoring girls tried to catch his eyes.

Next to him strode a woman with a very slight build. Her rich brown hair flowed gracefully down to her waist as she marched in step with the others. While the contrast of the blood red cloak on her pale features drew attention, it was her face that captivated Harry's eyes. Harry's breath caught in his throat as she briefly flicked her eyes over him. Her deep brown eyes seemed to hold his heart as she gazed at him. Ron and the other guys around him all appeared to be under the same affect. They stared openmouthed at her as she looked over their side of the room. Her face had a playful look on it, as if teasing him with her flirtations. She winked at him and his heart leapt to his throat. He felt giddy and lightheaded. Before he lost his senses, she returned her gaze to Dumbledore.

With a relieved gasp he fell back into the solidity of his seat. His gaze shifted to the last man in line. If the woman had been the highlight of the procession, the last man was the low point. The man was heavyset and just under six feet tall. He had at least a dozen scars crisscrossing his body and sported a grim frown. His narrow features and sharp eyes gave the impression that he was scanning each individual student in case it was a threat, or a potential meal.

Ron sighed contentedly after they passed by. Harry leaned over to him and whispered, "Do you know the names of those three?" he indicated the three others.

Nodding dreamily, Ron pointed to each separately. "That first one is Judder McDouglass. He's a regular chick-magnet. Once he single-handedly downed two Death Eaters and a giant on his own. I think he's also the only one on the team without a record with the Department of Justice. Of all the team, he is the most liked and approved by the wizarding community."

Harry analyzed the information in his brain. "I can see why. He is definitely a second Lockhart. What about smiley over there? Who is he?"

The group of wizards arrived at the head table and took their seats. Ron hurried in a brief description. "He is the resident hulk of the team. Martin Schmitt is his name, I think. Rumor has it that he is a vampire. All of his victims are found drained of blood." Ron closed his eyes and swallowed hard. "His record with the ministry has its own folder. Before Vandermine picked him up he rested in the top twenty of the Wizard Criminals List."

Harry indicated the woman to Vandermine's left. "What about her?" The woman briefly turned her head to watch them as he spoke. It was as if she could hear them. Quickly Harry dropped his gaze and stared at his feet. Blood rose in his cheeks as he felt her eyes resting on him.

Something similar to a sigh escaped Ron's mouth as he watched her. "She is Kathryn Stringer. Isn't she gorgeous?" Ron felt rather than saw Hermione's indignant gaze. He shook himself and added "Of course she is a Veela. It is hard to not think that she is beautiful."

"But what about-" Harry started to reply, but Dumbledore rose to his feet, forestalling further conversation. Dumbledore acknowledged the four and addressed the student body.

"Students of Hogwarts," he began, "It is good to see you all back this year. As some of you have noticed, the Ministry has placed a guard around this school for the time being."

Ron discreetly nudged Harry. Harry casually glanced over and saw Ron form the word "dementors." He silently agreed.

"That is because there is a dangerous criminal abroad in this land. He is considered arm and extremely dangerous, so I would beg of you to do nothing foolish in the unlikely event that you do see him.

"In addition to the Ministry's security team, I have taken the liberty of appointing my own security for the school. Most of you have heard of Lucas Vandermine and his Shrike Squad, but for those of you that have not, they specialize in counter-wizard and counter-animal operations. These four will oversee security for the school this year. Although they will hopefully not be necessary, they will make sure that the school will suffer no interference from outside forces. They will neutralize any threat deemed credible, so do not try to test them with pranks, spells or practical jokes." His eyes focused pointedly on Fred and George as he spoke the last bit. Their good-natured grins faded when they saw the seriousness in his eyes.

"Please treat them the same way you would treat the staff. They are here to prevent harm, so do not give them reason to put their considerable skills to work." At this point his eyes focused on Harry and Draco. Both students blanched under his imperious gaze. "For the most part you will never see them on-duty. If you do notice them on-duty, however, get out of their way. Disrupting their work could be dangerous. That is it. You may continue eating."

With a merry bow he returned to his seat. The momentary lull in conversation continued on until Harry and Ron exchanged glances. Worry and anxiety flooded back and forth. How dangerous could their work be? What would they be doing?

The majority of the students returned to their meals with renewed vigor, eager to finish up so that they could speculate on the year ahead. Harry and Ron lowered their heads and spoke quietly in between mouthfuls.

"So… how much do you know about the Shrike Squad itself?"

Ron took a few more bites of his steak and swallowed hard. "I'd say I know a lot about their operations. After all, they did have a running tab of them at the Ministry where my dad works. He used to let me read it when I went with him to work. Then they moved it to the security wing. I still do not know why."

"What exactly do they do? Besides security, that is."

Ron thought a moment before replying. "They tend to do their own work hunting down vampires, werewolves giants and the like, but they will take Ministry jobs occasionally. Last I heard they were keeping a public tally of their missions and the results, but not much has come of that. The Ministry quickly banned it from publication. There are still a few copies in Knockturn Alley behind Diagon Alley. I wouldn't recommend going there without a riot squad though. It's full of trash."

A movement at the head table diverted their attention. Vandermine stood and cleared his throat noisily. The students ceased talking again and watched him anxiously. He nodded appreciatively.

"Students of Hogwarts, My name is Lucas Vandermine. Some of you know about me, a lesser number have seen me, and still fewer have ever met me. These three are, as some of you already know, Judder McDouglass, Martin Schmitt, and Kathryn Stringer. You all know that we will be providing security. However, each of us will be assigned to a House for odd jobs, chaperoning and basically just to get to know you all better." He let out a low chuckle as several students squirmed in their seats. His voice rasped harshly in the air, quelling the budding murmurs. "Do not try to use them as tools or favor pointers. We know our places and so do you. Actually, we hope that you will not have to use our help." He accepted a rolled-up parchment from Professor McGonagall. Unfolding it, he read its contents and frowned. Then he grinned and looked up at the waiting students. Everyone was leaning forward, ears straining to hear, as he announced the contents in a crisp booming voice.

"McDouglass...Ravenclaw!" Cheers erupted from the girls on the table. Judder suppressed a grin and strode over to the table, where he greeted the Ravenclaw prefects.

"Stringer...Hufflepuff!" Louder cheers echoed across the room as both guys and girls applauded the appointment. Stringer sauntered over and grabbed a seat by the flustered male prefect.

"Schmitt..." He paused and looked up, clearly enjoying himself. He purposefully 'dropped' the scroll. Harry and the others scowled at his beaming face as he bent down to retrieve it. Only the teachers and team members appreciated the humor. They all knew that no one preferred Schmitt as a top choice. No one, except...

"Oh, Slytherin!"

Scattered applause greeted the statement. The only ones who seemed truly happy were the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff crowd. Gryffindor braced itself for the impending proclamation.

"Vandermine..." He crumpled the paper and tossed it over his shoulder. The paper burst into flames as it fell. "Gryffindor. Welcome to the new year, kids."


	4. The Stairway

_Lily's body slipped from his grasp as three Aurors launched Stunning spells into his face. Nerveless fingers released their hold on his last friend as she tumbled down into the splinter-strewn floor. Tears flowed unchecked from his bloodshot eyes, the small drops sizzling in the heat of the recent fire. His mouth opened slightly. Incoherent words flowed out unheeded as the wizards carried his dead comrade outside._

_Then an unquenchable fury descended on him. _Who are they, arriving too late and driving me from mourning? What authority do they have over me? _His vision flashed red, as red as the burning flames that had burned his arms as he had dug out her body. Claws three inches long grew from his fingers in seconds. Fur replaced hair on his body as his ghastly transformation occurred. An unearthly growl escaped his throat and he pounced._

Harry trudged up the steps, closely followed by a grumbling Ron and stormy Hermione. They were still arguing about Vandermine. At this point Ron seemed to be winning because Hermione was silent. Every so often he glanced back at them. On the outside they looked plain mad at each other, but inside Harry saw that they were starting to forgive each other. Fewer insults were being thrown back and forth and their voices had lost the competitive edge that had been ever present in the coach.

Oblivious to his surroundings, Harry hurried down the hallways and towards the stairwell. He absentmindedly listened to Ron's ongoing commentary on Vandermine's life. He was detailing a 'heroic rescue mission' from Vandermine's early days as an Auror. It was amusing listening to his enthusiastic dialogue. Hermione picked up her pace imperceptibly and joined Harry. Out of the corner of her mouth she muttered "Do you think he'll ever stop? My ears are aching from his chatter."

A grin spread across Harry's face. It was good to have Hermione back on speaking terms. "Your ears aching? Oh, I don't know. He might have to breathe eventually. Other than that, who knows?"

Hermione tried to smile at the joke, but it quickly disappeared as a crowd rounded the corner in front of them. Hermione stifled a frown and pointed at the tallest in the crowd, Kathryn Stringer. "Look at _Miss Veela_ over there. She is certainly enjoying herself."

The irony of her statement did not miss Harry. A horde of Hufflepuff boys lead her down the hall to the dorms, each struggling to outdo the others and catch her eye. She bore through the 'help' patiently, although her face was strained as she hid a smile. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the trio and nodded. The movement drew immediate attention away from her as jealous Hufflepuff boys turned to see where her acknowledgement was going. When they had all turned she darted past them and disappeared into the library. By the time the Hufflepuffs had turned back, she was nowhere in sight. Groans of dismay came from the Hufflepuff crowd and they dispersed in dejected clumps.

With a grunt of indignation Hermione rolled her eyes and scoffed at the boys. "You would think that she was the last girl alive, the way those kids are acting. She's way too old for them anyway." Harry bit his lip to hold in his merriment. Only Hermione would bring up the age difference. Other girls would have been complaining about her looks.

Soon they were too busy discussing the new arrangements to notice anything else. Hermione grudgingly admitted that additional security could be useful after a long, persuasive argument by Harry and Ron. She still did not agree with Dumbledore's choice for the job, though. Finally they Harry and Hermione decided to discuss the situation away from Ron's endless praise of Vandermine. Leaving Ron sputtering resentfully at the Gryffindor door, they continued on, unconcerned as to where they went.

Normally nothing would have happened. In any other time they would have a nice, long walk, discuss the situation, and then return to the room. Not today. By the time they reached the Sixth floor Peeves had noticed them. He had been cooped up in Hogwarts for the whole summer without a young soul to spook. He was itching to do something devious and, seeing Harry and Hermione, he seized his chance. Zeroing in on their location, he dove under a moving staircase and waited.

Harry and Hermione stopped at the edge of the steps as the staircase shifted over to a new door. Turning to Harry, Hermione glanced around anxiously. They had forgotten how long these talks could last. "How long do we have until curfew? We'd better head back."

Harry checked hi swatch and groaned. "You're right. We've only got a couple minutes."

Before they could turn back down the stairwell, Peeves struck. Phasing out from under their feet, Peeves jumped straight through Hermione, cackling like a Banshee. Harry took an involuntary step to the side and lashed out with his wand. Hermione shrieked and lunged backwards... right off of the edge of the shifting stairwell.

Harry froze for an instant as she stumbled on the thin air. Then his reactions kicked in and he moved. Diving for her hand, he managed to grab it as she dropped down. A spasm of pain shook his arm as his arm was stretched to the limit. There was a hard yank on his arm and her descent jerked to a halt. He held her momentarily, eyes locked as they struggled against gravity. Then their hands slid apart as sweat loosened their grips. Hermione screamed in terror and dropped like a rock.

Everyone in the stairwell watched in horror as she plummeted towards the stone floor six stories down. In the back of her mind Hermione realized the danger she was in, but she started to feel numb as the ground closed in on her. Her vision became speckled with black dots as her lungs struggled to replace the air that she had lost in her scream. She closed her eyes hopelessly and prepared for the impact.

Two stories off of ground level a dark shape detached from the wall. It homed in on her in seconds. Latching onto her with its claws, the shape caught her and dragged her upward with amazing strength and speed. As it cleared the nearest floor, the bat let go, dropping her lightly to the ground. Then it landed and transformed.

Harry leapt down the steps four at a time as he rushed to his friend's side. By the time he arrived, so had most of the others. Hermione rested on the ground, too terrified to move. Vandermine crouched by her side, proffering a canteen of what looked like water and holding her head up. His eyes followed Harry's approach and he caught Harry's eye. She would be fine. Harry swallowed hard and nodded.

Gently, so as not to disturb her, he scooped her up in his arms and turned towards the door to the Gryffindor dorm. Her sobs and tears were muffled as she buried her head in his cloak. The students parted and allowed him to walk through. He motioned for Harry to follow as they approached the Gryffindor common room.

The Pink Lady woke with a start when Vandermine rapped the painting with his foot.

"What's the password?" She mumbled drowsily.

"Motter-melon." The door swung open to reveal a packed commons. Ignoring the bewildered crowd of Gryffindors, Vandermine placed Hermione on a vacated sofa. She blinked back tears as he handed her a clean handkerchief. Quietly she blew her nose and wiped her lingering tears away.

"Thank you," she said.

Vandermine gave her a lopsided grimace and turned away. "Anytime." He called over his shoulder as he left the room. At the doorway he halted and twisted his head around. At the sight of Hermione curled up in the warm chair his hard expression seemed to melt like snow before the fire. He solemnly knelt before the bad and took her hand in his. Looking into her small, frightened face, he patted the hand soothingly. His other hand slid out of his cloak, revealing her book that she had dropped outside. "Sleep." He said in a soft voice. "Forget what happened. You need not fear anything while we are here to protect you."

Hermione's face relaxed and she slumped in her chair. Within seconds she was fast asleep. Vandermine lingered for a moment, then, rising to his feet, he left the room as silently as he had entered, mumbling something about Peeves. Harry noticed his grey eyes were misty.

Hermione jerked awake at the sound of the door closing. "Oh, hello." She said as she looked around. Confusion spread over her face as she rubbed her head. "I must have been dreaming." Owlishly she blinked in the light of the fire. "I dreamt I had fallen off of the stairs." Harry and the others crowded around her excitedly. They all wanted to know the details of the incident.

Before Harry could stop them Ron's voice piped out, "How did you fall off of the stairs?"

Hermione's confused face change into a look of disgust as she realized that her dream had been reality. Hurriedly she rose and started for the girl's dorm, cutting off everyone's questions with a shaking hand. Harry cut her off at the steps, hands out pleadingly. He pulled her aside and warned the rest off with a glare.

He ignored Hermione's outraged expression. "Are you alright?" His voice quavered slightly as he spoke. "Are you injured?"

Angrily, Hermione pushed him away. It was obvious that she was anything but fine. "Am I alright?" Incredulity filled her voice. "I just fell off of the stairs and touched a flesh-eating murderer! How could I be fine after that?" She shuddered and rubbed her arms as if she could wipe his touch away. "Harry, did you see what he did?"

"Save you."

"Yes, but how? He turned into a bat." Harry stared at her blankly, not understanding. "There are only two ways to change into a bat. No one could have cast a spell that quickly."

"So?" Harry still didn't see where she was going. Something was bouncing around in his head, but he couldn't tell what it was.

"Harry, he's a vampire."

Harry's mouth opened in immediate protest, but he shut it as quickly. She was right, there was no way he could have cast a spell that quickly. "Don't tell anyone, will you."

Hermione frowned, but nodded her head. "I won't for you. But don't be surprised if the others notice." Harry smiled in gratitude and patted her on the arm. She smiled back, although weakly.

Ron finally detached himself from the crowd and approached them. Noting Harry's warning look, he halted at a respectable distance. "Hermione..." He stuttered slightly as he thought of what to say. "I'm sorry." She lifted her eyes from the floor to him. Surprise mingled with resentment crept through her features. "I've been acting like a jerk. Will you forgive me?"

Hermione interrupted him by closing the distance between them and giving him a swift hug. Ron blushed scarlet as she laughed over his shoulder. "You're forgiven. I didn't exactly behave civilly either." She drew away from him and grinned. Her voice regained its usual seriousness. "Just don't start bragging about Vandermine again. I can't stand it." Before the boys could respond she had disappeared up the stairs into her dorm room.

Harry and Ron exchanged baffled looks. "Well, at least she is back to normal." Ron laughed weakly and pulled a slip of paper out of his back pocket. "I guess this has to go." He carried the piece over to the fire. With a regretful sigh he dropped the paper into the consuming flames. On the word was written four words.

_Tell Hermione I'm sorry._

Harry grabbed Ron's arm and drew him away from the others. Sitting himself down, Harry indicated a seat by his. "What do you know about Vandermine?" he asked.

Ron cheered up immensely at the thought of expounding on his knowledge. "I can tell you everything. His medals, his methods of work, his family..." Ron bit his lip. Apparently that knowledge was painful even to others outside Vandermine's family. "or, what was his family."

Harry tilted his head forward. "Go on. Tell me. I want to know more about him."

Ron shrugged and began.

"Where to start? Well, not much is known about his early years. According to the official report, he just kind of 'appeared' at the Ministry's doorstep one day, at the age of fourteen. He claimed to be from America, and said he wanted to work for the Ministry. They checked his background and found nothing wrong, so they gave him a small job, running errands and such. He was too old to start at Hogwarts but he showed so much potential that he was soon given to an old Auror for mentoring."

"Who?"

"The report didn't say. I think that they wanted to keep his identity secret, for his safety."

"His safety? Why?"

"Once Vandermine started hunting down Death Eaters and all, You-Know-Who threatened to hunt down and kill the one who trained him so well."

"Oh."

"Yeah. So, anyway, he and the Auror disappeared for three years, no one, not even the Ministry knew where they went. Then one day they showed up again, chasing down vampires in Romania. The Ministry brought them back and instated Vandermine as a full-fledged Auror. His first assignment was to protect a shipment of wand supplies from Norway. The weather was so bad that they had to take boats. Their boat got attacked in the middle of the ocean by a sea monster, and Vandermine fought it off. Killed it, in fact. Got in a load of trouble for that. It was a rare beast, so he got a hard rap for acting 'outside of his authority.'

"Since then he was put on more and more dangerous missions. He fought criminals, hunted wild creatures, protected artifacts of power, you name it. He was one of the best of his time. He even taught at the Ministry's Auror Academy. His students became some of the best around. And he did all of this before he turned twenty.

"Then You-Know-Who rose to power. Vandermine was one of the first people he chased down. Knowing his background, he tried desperately to recruit him-"

"His background? Tried to recruit him?" Harry raised an eyebrow in disbelief. Ron gave him an exasperated look.

"Yeah him. You know about his- oh wait, that's right, you don't." Ron sighed and fell back deeper into his chair.

"Does the name Jacob Vlanders sound familiar?"

Harry's eyes opened wider as he thought about it. "Yes, he's the one from the medieval times, who started the Black Death…"

"And killed several hundred million people. Vandermine is his descendent. Nearly his entire family tree is full of bad eggs."

"His ancestor is a genocider?"

"Yes. That's why You-Know-Who wanted him so bad. He though that with Vandermine's help, he could restart the plague. The Wizarding community is immune to the plague, so it would have only helped His plan for domination."

"And Vandermine said no."

"Not exactly," Ron frowned. "He and an army of Aurors ambushed them. It was a massive fight, like nothing this world has ever seen. Vandermine and all of his students fought against You-Know-Who and the Death Eaters for three days! By the time it was all over, only a handful were left on each side. Vandermine was captured and his students were scattered.

"You-Know-Who had him for four years before he broke free. He fought his way out with a group of other prisoners and returned to the Ministry, exhausted, tortured and nearly dead. The Ministry quickly ousted him, trying to keep itself out of You-Know-Who's ire. He was left on the streets with the few survivors of his prison. They went into hiding and he ended up marrying a Muggle. Even though it was a secret, there was a massive scandal about it. He came from one of the purest wizarding families ever, and he married a plain, completely magicless Muggle. Some thought he did it out of spite for Him, others said he had turned his back on the wizarding community.

"Whatever it was, You-Know-Who devoted a lot of resources to hunting him down. He found him, and murdered his family, just a couple weeks before he attacked your family, actually." Ron saw his face blanch and he apologized. "I'm sorry, I'll stop if you want."

Harry lowered his head unconsciously and grimaced. The thought of his dead parents still hurt a little. "No, keep going. What happened after that?"

"Hermione already told you. He hunted down those involved in the murder of his family and killed them all. All but Him, I mean, he was already gone."

Harry rubbed the scar on his forehead. "Yeah."

"Anyhow, not much is known after that. A few scattered reports said he showed up at your house…"

"I know about that." Vandermine's words floated in Harry's head as he remembered their conversation at his house. _I was the first one to find your house after Voldemort came._

"…and killed the three Aurors sent to clear the area."

"He what?" Harry did a double take at that.

"At least, they think he killed them. Officially, a werewolf killed them, but tests on the wands showed that they had all shot a stunning spell at him. Or, two did."

"What about the third one?"

"It was snapped clean in half."

"Wow. Does that mean he's a werewolf?"

"Your guess is as good as mine. But the Ministry put a bounty on his head, and Aurors from all over came to hunt him down. None of them were ever seen again. I heard that he got into a lot of fights then, mainly with suspected ex-Death Eaters. Killed all of them, those that he found.

"About seven years ago though, he reemerged to world, a 'new man.' He had gathered three powerful wizards to his side and called it his Shrike Squad. They were not welcomed at first, but, after seeing them take down five criminal organizations, the Ministry endorsed them and offered them a permanent job. They refused and stayed loner, but they did take jobs on occasion."

Ron stopped suddenly and looked at the clock. Most of the others had disappeared into their rooms. "Time to go to bed, Harry. I'll tell you more later."


	5. Dark Arts

_The two men entered the broken house. One had a stern and cold face, the other looked in shock and awe at the carnage within the charred doors. The mutilated bodies of the three Aurors were splayed across the floor like rag-dolls. Terror was frozen on their faces from their last living moments. In the hands of one was a broken wand. It had been snapped cleanly in half. Sparks of light shot out from the wand at irregular intervals, giving off an eerie glow to the room. They had hardly been dead for ten minutes._

_The body of Lily Potter rested off to the side, completely untouched by the destruction around it. Hagrid stared openmouthed at the slaughter. He nudged Dumbledore with his elbow and pointed to a patch of bloodied fur hanging on a cloak by one of the Aurors. A werewolf had been there. Dumbledore bent down and reached for the fallen cloak. The blood red dragon scales glittered evilly in the dim light. Vandermine!_

Two months into the school year things had settled down with Vandermine's group. The anticipated adventures and exciting battles never happened, much to the dismay of the die-hard fans. Actually, the students barely noticed them wandering to and fro in the school hallways. The squad took on a largely unnoticed role in the doings at Hogwarts. Signs of their presence were everywhere; missing possessions appearing at the owner's bed, wild animals suddenly disappearing, occasional intruders being quietly hustled off the school grounds. Once or twice Vandermine appeared in teacher's rooms to talk with the teachers at the end of classes, but he largely stayed in the background. Their existence gradually became unnoticeable until early December.

Harry and Ron chose their usual seats in the _Defense against Dark Arts_ class. They eagerly awaited the day's class. Professor Lupin had hinted that there would be a special object lesson. Knowing him, the treat would be very special. He was the best teacher they had had in the _Defense against Dark Arts _class. Time could not pass fast enough for the two while they waited for the class to begin.

Lupin came into the classroom from the backdoor and greeted the class. Harry noticed that he looked ill and was limping slightly. He had a haunted look in his eyes. Lupin brushed off any potential inquiries with a wave of his hand and strode straight into his teacher's room. For several minutes not a sound came out. Then the door slid open. No one was more surprised then Harry when the door opened fully to reveal Vandermine. Lupin exited his office behind Vandermine and called the class to order. It took a minute for the students to settle down.

"Good day." He said briskly. "I hope that your day has gone well."

His eyes glanced intently over the students. Nearly all of them were too dumbstruck by the sight of Vandermine in the room to answer. None of them had even considered the fact that he could be in their lesson. Hermione seemed to be the only one not overawed by Vandermine's sudden appearance. She scowled at the looks on her compatriot's faces.

Lupin gathered everyone's attention and continued. "Mr. Vandermine has gracefully agreed to help with our class today. He will provide supervision over one half of the class while I work with the other half." He gestured to the nearest half of the classroom. "You will be with me. The other half will accompany Vandermine to the prepared area on the grounds."

Ron and Harry nodded silently as they saw Vandermine's half of the class leave the room in single file. They turned expectantly to Professor Lupin. Unconsciously they craned their necks forward to hear him speak. He did not disappoint.

"I have decided that this course is not focusing enough on practical issues involved in spellcasting. So, with Dumbledore's permission, today the class will learn how to practice under stress. For the first half-period you will be with me. The last half will be outside with Vandermine. In here you will face time constraints and noise distractions while you cast spells. Outside..." He chortled and closed his eyes. "It will be different."

Harry glanced nervously at Ron. _What does he mean, different?_ Ron shrugged as if he had heard Harry's thoughts. They were thinking the same thing. Different meant potential danger.

The first half of class passed by rapidly. By the end of the period, Harry had mastered the use of minor hexes while facing an emptying hourglass. Broken vases and pots littered the floor around an elevated stand, where a near-continuous stream of hexes peppered everything on top as it appeared. Hermione received top marks in the group and earned Gryffindor ten points for dropping twenty pots in under nine seconds. She skillfully bounced her hexes off the targets into nearby targets, creating some spectacular showers of pottery. Seamus managed to shatter three in one shot when he tripped on his feet as he moved for a better angle. Even Neville Longbottom had shot down ten floating vessels in fifteen seconds. The period soon turned into a friendly competition as row after row of plates, pots, and vases exploded in showers.

The only one not doing well was Ron. Sweating profusely from strain and embarrassment, he continually missed his targets, pasting the wall behind the stand with gooey slime and scorch marks. Frantically he lashed out with his wand, missing his targets by mere inches as this hexes grazed by, filling the air with a powdery burning smell. When Lupin called the class to halt, he collapsed exhaustedly in his seat, all of his energy drained from his exertions. As they filed excitedly out of the room he hid his face in a book. His face glowed as red as his hair, and Harry could see tears welling in his eyes. He didn't mention it. Better to let him deal with it on his own.

He pointedly avoided the others until they reached the grounds where Vandermine tested the other half of the class. The other half of the class hurried past them with looks of sheer terror and exhilaration as they entered the courtyard. Vandermine stood alone in a small circular field surrounded by a low shrub wall. He motioned for the students to line up outside the arena. When they had sufficiently situated themselves he commenced his portion of the class.

He vaulted over the shrubbery and glanced around at the bright apprehensive faces surrounding him. "I don't know all your names, so don't expect me to remember them once you tell me them." He pointed to Harry. "Starting with you, state your first and last name."

Harry took a step forward and spoke his name. "Harry Potter." And so on down the line it went until Neville stepped forward. Vandermine halted him mid-name.

"You are Neville Longbottom?" A far-off look clouded his face. He stared blankly at Neville for several moments before jerking back to reality. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Vandermine said "Can I see you after class? I need to talk to you."

Neville gulped fearfully and glanced at Harry. Students around the arena muttered quietly to each other until Vandermine silenced them with an exasperated wave.

"You don't have to stay, Neville. If you don't want to you can leave with the rest."

Malfoy snickered at Neville from across the arena. Seeing that he was gloating at his own discomfort, Neville straightened up and adopted a resolute expression. He stared pointedly at Malfoy before turning to Vandermine.

"I'll stay."

Vandermine brightened a little. "Great." He faced the last part of the class. "Please continue with your names."

The others rapidly filled in their names. When they had finished, he cleared his throat and began.

"Now that that's over, we can begin." He pointed to the arenas' center. "Malfoy, go stand in there."

Malfoy strutted arrogantly into the arena. Vandermine entered on the far side and indicated a small circle to Malfoy's left.

"Hit that with a fire hex."

Malfoy sneered with contempt and faced the circle. Raising his wand, he haughtily issued the command. "_Ignis ..._"

A collective gasp arose behind him. Whirling around, he shrieked in fear. A brick hurtled through the air and smashed onto the arena floor at his feet. Malfoy threw his hands up to cover his face as shards soared in all directions. The fire hex shot off into the air, soaring faster than a lightning bolt. The sizzling ball hurtled wildly through the arena as it bounced off of invisible walls. Vandermine calmly stepped to the side as it shot by and neutralized it.

"That, Malfoy, is why you always watch your back." Vandermine flicked his wand and the fragmented brick disappeared. "One never knows what is happening when one isn't looking."

Malfoy shot him a murderous glare and sneered. "Is this how you always work, attacking from the rear like a craven coward?"

The students recoiled at his remark. Everyone knew about the train incident and expected something similar to happen. However, Vandermine shrugged off the comment as if Malfoy had not spoken. Vandermine casually stretched his wand out and aimed behind Malfoy. Malfoy gave a shout of terror as iron hands clamped down on his back. Wrenching himself free, Malfoy rolled away from his attacker. Regaining his feet, he turned to face his assailant.

A full-grown gryphon paced about on the far side of the arena. Vandermine appeared by his side and shoved him forward. "Take it out." He whispered.

After three minutes Vandermine called Malfoy out. Sweat drenched Malfoy from head to toe. The gryphon resumed its haughty pacing along the arena wall as Vandermine pointed to the next student.

"Ron, hop in."

Ron swallowed hard and entered. The gryphon returned to its corner as his foot broke the magical barrier. Vandermine indicated the center of the arena as Ron looked about. The air inside the arena shimmered slightly as he moved. Faintly he smelled the scent of his worst fear.

Silently a trio of spiders detached themselves from the opposite side of the arena. The students murmured outside. Evidently they could not see what was on that side of the arena from the outside. Ron gripped his broken wand protectively as the spiders circled around his lone form. Distantly he heard Vandermine offering encouragement to him.

"Take them out one at a time. Don't let them get behind you."

Ron turned to acknowledge Vandermine's tip. The lead spider pounced on him, dragging him to the floor. Instantly the other two scuttled in, expecting a quick kill. As they launched themselves into the air, Ron lashed blindly at the spider already on him. He was rewarded by an agonized screech as the spider flew upwards. The three spiders collided in midair and scattered like ninepins.

Ron rolled onto his feet and staggered upwards. Spasms of pain shot through his back where the spider had hit him. He tentatively approached the nearest spider, wand aimed at its abdomen. It flipped over and hurled itself at Ron. He sidestepped the incoming arachnid and shouted , "_Tenere arachnia_!"

Invisible bonds clamped down on the spider. Helplessly it rolled over and over on the floor until it reached the arena's wall. With a flash of light it vanished. An admiring applause broke out among the students. Ron's face flushed with excitement as he faced the other two spiders, all fear forgotten. The spiders hesitated as he strode confidently forward, waving his wand threateningly. The nearest spider lunged at him and hissed venomously. Ron dove under the spiders legs and thrust his wand against its soft belly. "_Velle iam_." The spider scurried off towards the arena's far side. With a soft popping noise it vanished through the barrier.

Ron's maneuver had carried him too close to the other spider. Triumphantly it latched onto his unprotected back and clamped down with its sharp beak. Ron's head swam and he fell forward onto the floor. His vision started to fade out as pressure mounted on his back. He vaguely heard alarmed cries coming from the others. Through the din and pain he recognized the distinct voice of Hermione calling out to him.

"Ron!"

Determination flooded through Ron like fire. He would not let himself and his friends down. Ron mustered his strength and pushed himself upwards with his feet. The spider tumbled off and sprawled on the floor. Dizzily Ron steadied himself and locked eyes with the spider. A wild lunge by the spider knocked him over as he clumsily dodged away from it. With the last of his strength he whacked the spider firmly across the mouth. Flames exploded in the spider's face as the wand sparked and sputtered. The spider soared across the arena and landed with a sickening crunch on the ground.

Wild cheers erupted while Vandermine helped him out of the arena. Ron staggered wildly and clutched Harry's arm for support. Harry laughed at Ron's ripped clothes and patted him on the back. "That was awesome. I didn't know you could do that!"

Hermione wiped blood off of his face with a handkerchief and smiled. "That was an extraordinary show. I thought you were scared of spiders."

Further discussion was cut off as Vandermine motioned Neville into the arena. Neville cautiously entered and walked to center of the arena. Two figures detached themselves from the waiting throng and advanced on him. The two giants lumbered forward, oafishly bumping each other. Neville glanced pleadingly at Vandermine. Vandermine shook his head and pointed to the giants.

Hermione groaned as the giants moved towards Neville. "He's going to get Neville killed! What is he thinking?" She tugged on Harry's sleeve to get his attention. "Look, that giant is over thirty feet tall! Neville is a goner."

Harry shrugged and studied the giant in question. "Vandermine isn't that crazy. You heard him before; he values our lives above his own."

Hermione rolled her eyes and focused on the trembling Neville. "People lie, Harry. I sincerely doubt that he spoke in earnest. If he knew anything about Neville, he would know not to try this."

Harry and Ron exchanged humored but apprehensive looks and ignored her ranting as they watched the arena. Neville was ducking, dodging, and fleeing for his life as the giants stumbled over themselves in their attempt to grab him. Vandermine circled the arena, shouting help and encouragement.

"Get underneath them! Go for their legs!"

Neville gave him an incredulous look and ducked as a gigantic club whistled past his head. Vandermine shouted to him again as he rose to his feet.

"Get under them!"

Neville sighed and rushed under the nearest giant as it straightened for another swing. The giant paused stupidly as Neville disappeared between his monstrous feet. The other giant didn't pause. Its gargantuan club crashed down on the unsuspecting giant as it tried to reach Neville. Neville squealed in fright and launched Blinding spells at the remaining giant as it hurled the senseless giant aside. One spell hit the giant dead in the eye, bathing its eye in light. The giant stumbled backwards and tumbled into the barrier. In a flash it was gone. Even louder cheers rang out as Neville hurried out of the arena, face as pale as snow. He doubled over in the soft grass and threw up several times. When he rose, he had returned back to his normal self, albeit a shaken self.

"Hermione Granger!"

Hermione marched into the arena and took up a position slightly off of the center circle. She twirled her wand expectantly as she waited for her test. Vandermine stepped to the side and grimaced as she confidently glanced at the creatures approaching her. Three gigantic snakes slithered towards her, tongues shooting in and out at her.

Vandermine circled around the snakes, pointing out weaknesses. "Don't hit them head on. Pick them off one at a time."

Hermione stared coldly as him and scoffed at his advice. "I'll ask when I need your help, sir." She approached the nearest snake with a casual air. The snake slid forward to her left. She lifted her wand and aimed at its head.

"_Parva Slytherin_!"

The snake wriggled furiously as the spell took affect. Slowly the snake shrank until it resembled a small string of rope. She proudly turned to face the next snake.

WHAM!

The snakes lunged for her head, jaws snapping wildly. Hermione ducked as the gigantic head soared by, but was too slow to avoid the lashing tail. The blow caught her across the chest and lifted her into the air. All of the air left her lungs as she slammed down on the first snake. It hissed wildly and looped itself around her neck. As the snakes converged on her, she gave a strangled cry.

Vandermine reached her in an instant. Flicking his wand, he sent the large snake flying head over tail across the arena. Then he bent down and slashed the little snake. With an agonized spasm it rolled off and shriveled up. Reaching down, he lifted Hermione off of the ground. She groaned and rubbed her throat.

Vandermine spoke softly as he carried her outside the arena, so no on else could hear. "This seems familiar. I seem to recall a similar situation like this."

Hermione scowled at him and bit back a retort. Her throat hurt too much to express her indignation. _Besides_, she thought, _he does have a point._ She settled for a muffled complaint under her breath.

Vandermine set her down on the ground and touched her neck gently. Feeling for damaged tissue, he called out over his shoulder, "Harry, in you go. I'll take care of Hermione. You shouldn't need my help."

Harry reluctantly entered the arena. Steeling his nerves, he confronted the beasts that waited for him. A half-dozen Stygian birds flapped overhead, cawing harshly to each other. Harry studied them closely, looking for possible weaknesses. A solid wall of razor-sharp feathers hurtled down on his unprotected head. Dodging the fatal bolts, Harry searched his mind for effective spells.

The birds descended cautiously, moving as a team. Harry cast about furtively for a shield with which he could block the shafts. Finally a bird came in range. Leaping over a pile of feathers, he aimed at a low-flying bird that ventured too close.

"_Scio animam_."

Incomprehensive thoughts flooded into his mind. He could not translate the animalistic urges, but suddenly their tactics became clear. Searching their darting forms, he picked a target and fired.

"_Incindere Aves_."

Fire enveloped the target. Screeching in pain, the bird plummeted to the floor. On its way down it collided with another bird. Together they tumbled to the ground in an immobile heap. Harry felt a sense of euphoria rise in him as he targeted the next bird. They fell easily before him as he read their flight patterns ahead of time. Like mindless puppets, they carried on their pattern until all six lay on the ground.

Harry turned to face the audience of students to find them huddled around two unmoving figures. His heart rose in his throat as he realized that the figure on the ground was Hermione. Madam Pomfrey rushed across the field and thrust herself through the crown. A distorted voice broke the barrier, screaming for help.

"She's not breathing!"

Harry staggered as if hit by a lightning bolt. His vision swam as he dimly felt himself fall forward. The ground rushed towards him invitingly.


	6. Dueling Club

_Warm light flooded his vision. Raising a hand to block the sunlight, he blinked groggily. The events of the last night rushed into his mind like a tidal wave. Agonizing pain shot through his body, doubling him over. A wave of emotions drowned him with sorrow. Carefully he raised himself, taking stock of his surroundings. Nowhere in sight was a single house. As far as he could see, endless fields stretched to the skies. The only sign of civilization was a small country road just wide enough for three people to walk abroad. He desperately searched for a recognizable landmark. Groaning in frustration, he sat back down and buried his head in his hands. He was lost._

Harry entered Madam Pomfrey's infirmary room slowly. Vandermine waved him forward. Nodding to Hermione's limp form, he said, "The little serpent got her. Lucky for her it was too small to carry any serious venom."

Prodding her with his hand, he grimaced. "If she had done that in real life she would have been dead. Still, that's why we practice." He tilted his head and watched Harry. "Do you need me to leave?"

A feeling of uneasiness swept over Harry as he fumbled for words. "Well...It'd be nice...to talk to her..." A lump formed in his throat as he coughed on the last word. "...alone."

To his surprise, Vandermine bowed and left. As he walked out, he called over his shoulder, "Meet me after lunch."

Harry nodded absentmindedly and focused on Hermione. Curled up snugly in her soft infirmary bed, Hermione looked to the entire world like a young child resting peacefully after a long day. Her body rose and settled lightly as she breathed in and out. The only trace of her fight that remained was two tiny swelling marks on her throat. A calm feeling seeped through Harry as he gazed on her face. _She looks so peaceful, so happy_...

Unconsciously his hand left his side and touched her shoulder. In her sleep Hermione smiled, grabbing at his comforting hand. His hand shot back to his side and he turned away. Her eyes slowly flickered open and she let out a soft laugh.

"Hello. Professor Lupin was right when he said we had a surprise coming."

Harry gaped at her. His face rapidly changed to match the description of a ripe tomato. Hermione reached out and gripped his arm. With a casual pull she drew him closer and caught his eye.

"You okay, Harry?"

Harry's embarrassment faded from his face. Inwardly he berated himself for his immature behavior. Pulling on a false smile, he shrugged and replied, "I'm alright for a guy who almost lost one of his best friends. For a while I thought you were a goner."

Her eyes sparkled at his words. Anxiously she leaned over to him and asked hoarsely, "Really? Did you really miss me? What happened after I collapsed? How long have I been unconscious? If I have missed Potions..."

Seeing the confused look on his face, she paused and smirked. "I'm kidding about the Potions class."

Harry laughed nervously and tried to smile. "Right..." He looked over his shoulder to assure that no one was watching. "Hermione, there's something that I want to tell you."

She cocked an eyebrow at him quizzically. "What?"

As Harry started to speak, Ron burst into the room, trailed by his little sister Ginny. They rushed past Harry and surrounded Hermione before Harry could finish his thought. He caught her eye and mouthed the word "later." Then he shrugged apologetically and hurried out of the room.

_I was so close,_ He thought. _If Ron hadn't come in_... He stopped at the door to Vandermine's office. He was acting childish. How could he of all people get a girlfriend? Especially with someone like Hermione, a well-read genius that he relied on for homework help. _No,_ he chided himself, _even if I'd told her she would have laughed me off_.

His thoughts were interrupted when the door swung inwards, revealing the familiar face of Neville Longbottom. Both boys started in surprise, dropping their books. Harry immediately bent down to retrieve his things, apologizing under his breath. As he reached for his Potions book, his hands brushed against an unfamiliar object. He held it up and examined it carefully.

It was a beautiful cross necklace, with a thin but durable cord looped around the vertical post. The cross itself was made of polished jade and studded with rubies and opals across its lengths. At the center of the cross was a diamond so large that it seemed to weigh the cross forwards, yet the cross maintained a perfect sense of balance. Heat flowed out of the diamond, filling the air with a sense of calm joy.

Neville snatched the cross from Harry's hand. Without pausing to explain to him, he passed Harry and disappeared around the corner, leaving Harry staring after him in surprise.

_What was that about,_ Harry thought. _Did he really just do that?_ His mind returned to his present task. He took a deep breath and entered the room.

The sight took his breath away.

Dozens of wands and brooms decorated one side of the office. Some brooms dated back to the 1400's, while others had been produced in recent years. Under each wand was the name of a particular Death Eater defeated by Vandermine's group. Harry tried to mentally count the wands, but gave up when he reached thirty-five. Turning to the rest of the room, he surveyed the other wall.

The other side was as different from the first as fire from water. Rack after rack of pegs held more Muggle weapons than Harry could imagine. Swords, axes, maces, daggers, and even a couple guns hung from numerous wooden pegs. Harry marveled that the wall didn't cave in from all of the weight hanging from it.

Unconsciously he drew closer to a specific blade. It was what Muggles called a rapier; a slim, pointed blade that more resembled a flexible pole than a sword. He had read about these in a history class back in fourth grade. Harry reached for the grip and pulled it gently off of the wall. He tested the blade's balance, whipping the blade through the air. A feeling of exhilaration flooded through him as the blade responded to his thoughts, creating delicate patterns as it split the air.

An apple floated past him as he swung the blade. He reflexively lashed out, impaling the apple neatly in the middle. The apple slid off his sword and fell to the ground with a muffled thump. Someone clapped behind him and he jumped in fright.

Vandermine and Kathryn Stringer sat in hard wooden chairs, watching him. The two adults nodded approvingly at his swordsmanship. Harry noticed a hint of a smile on Vandermine's gaze.

"That was great for a first-timer." He said this as he rose up from his chair. "With a little practice you could challenge nearly anyone and stand a chance of winning."

Harry felt Kathryn's gaze on himself and examined his shoes. He had never noticed all of the dust caught under his shoestrings. A muttered excuse escaped his lips as he fought to control the now customary sense of giddiness accompanied by Kathryn's attention.

Vandermine slowly came around a desk and examined the rack of swords. Selecting one, he brandished it before Harry. "This sword is over five hundred years old. Merlin wore it, back when he served the king of England. It's blade is incredibly sharp, sharper than goblin swords."

Harry glanced at it for a moment and nodded. Vandermine pointed to the rapier in Harry's hand. "That one there was used by a member of the Spanish Ministry during the Inquisition, when he fought off a mob of Mug's. Didn't kill any, but injured enough to make them hightail it away. Not a killer, that one. A flat blade does the job much better."

Suddenly he barked out "Defend yourself" and raised his sword in a salute.

His blade flashed like lightning through the air. Harry ducked away the blade and felt the friction singe his hair. With a panicked jerk, he stabbed forward at Vandermine's waist. Before the blade landed Vandermine's sword slid in the way. The force of the contact shook Harry's arms. He gasped as pain shot down his arms.

Then Vandermine dropped back and attacked again, swinging low at his feet. Harry leapt over the whistling blade and whipped his sword at Vandermine's form. At the last second Vandermine dodged to the side and grabbed Harry's sword arm. His saber slashed in front of his throat, missing clearly but close enough to scare Harry.

Vandermine replaced his sword on the wall appreciatively. "That was well done, Harry. With a few weeks practice you could do much better."

Harry started to put his sword back on its peg. As he reached up, Vandermine halted him with an upraised hand. "Keep it. That sword respond swell to your touch. I've got too many swords as it is."

Gratitude filled Harry's face, although he did not know where it came from. _Why do I care about a sword? What could I possibly do with it?_ Nevertheless, he accepted the offer unhesitantly. The blade made a slight rustling noise as he slid it into his belt. Vandermine examined his makeshift sheath and nodded favorably. An uncomfortable silence fell between them as Harry waited for Vandermine to speak.

When Vandermine remained silent, Harry coughed nervously and began. "Sir, you said you wanted to speak with me. Are you going to talk?"

Realization of what he spoke hit him like a hammer. He blushed profusely and stumbled over an apology. "I'm sorry. That came out wrong."

Kathryn laughed at his embarrassment. Blood rushed to his cheeks as he shrunk from her laughter. Her voice was so melodic, so entrancing, so wonderful... She stopped abruptly when Vandermine looked her way. Her smile remained though, and the blood stayed in Harry's cheeks.

"That's all right. After all, I am not a teacher, just security. Next time I won't keep you waiting so long." Vandermine ignored his embarrassment and returned to his seat. "When you went straight to the blade I got interested to see what you knew about it.

"When was the last time that you heard about Sirius Black?" The question jolted Harry. While it came out pleasantly, an unspoken firmness hid behind it, warning against a lie. Harry's mind raced as he searched for a way to avoid surrendering his secret.

"I'm not sure that I follow you, sir." This was true, to an extent. Harry had no idea what he meant and where the conversation would go. Resorting to feigned ignorance carried a semblance of truth; just enough to deflect a casual inquiry.

Vandermine gave Harry an exasperated look. "What knowledge do you have of his whereabouts or wellbeing?"

"Sir?" Genuine confusion clouded Harry's face.

"Where was Black located when you last heard news about him?"

Harry sighed and reviewed the reports mentally. Finally, he shrugged and admitted, "I cannot remember."

Vandermine rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Do you mean to say that there is a maniac killer out after your blood and you don't know where he is?"

Harry bristled indignantly. "I most definitely do not mean that, sir! At the moment, I am not able to draw that memory out! If you called me here to interrogate me about that psycho, you would be better off asking Snape, or Hagrid, or Dumbeldore. How am I supposed to know more than them?" Anger drained from his mind. He exhaustedly crumpled into a seat and exhaled loudly. "Sorry, sore topic."

Vandermine blinked slowly as he waited for Harry to calm. "I know it's a sore topic. I am sorry for that. What I called you in for had nothing to do with Black himself. It just so happened that Sirius Black was sighted in a nearby village. This poses a serious threat to Hogwarts' school. Naturally, it is my job to find any evidence that could help counter this threat.

"What I called you here for originally has nothing to do with Sirius or any other security-related problems." He leaned forward and fixed his gaze on Harry. "How well can you fight?"

Shock overrode any harbored feelings as Harry gaped at Vandermine. "How well can I what?"

"Fight. Except for yesterday's lesson, I have had no examples of the quality of magical aptitude produced by Hogwarts School of Witchcraft etc... I am toying with the idea of adding a Dueling Club to Hogwarts repertoire of extracurricular activities."

"A what?"

"A Dueling Club. Surely, you have heard of them. Not like the one last year. This is the real thing. Hogwarts is the only major wizarding school without one. Adding one more competitive sport to Hogwarts couldn't hurt."

_With the caliber of people here, it could most definitely hurt._ "What exactly do Dueling Clubs cover?" Curiosity crept into his voice. The prospect of an extra activity seemed daunting with his schedule.

"Oh, this and that; a little dueling, a bit of races, a touch of fencing..."

Harry stumbled over the word 'fencing.' Only Muggles did that. "Fencing?"

Vandermine looked at Harry with a patronizing expression. "Fencing in this case would be the art of magical fencing. It resembles normal human fencing, except bladed wands are used instead of normal blades. Every wand is custom-made to fit a particular fighting style. These wands incorporate appropriate spells that compliment the style involved."

"It sounds fun."

Vanderine's voice answered deadpan and harsh. "It is extremely hard to master and sometimes fatal." Vandermine noted Harry's look and softened his tone of voice. "Fencing would be reserved for the most advanced members. Nothing is nearly as dangerous as fencing with untrained people.

"Of course, Dumbledore has yet to approve of this idea. You are the second person to hear of this outside of my squad."

Harry nodded appreciatively despite the dread piling in his gut. "I'm honored, I think."

Kathryn rose from her seat and headed toward the exit. As she passed Harry, she turned and smiled at him. "Don't tell anyone about this unless Dumbledore gives an official announcement. Early gossip would place Dumbledore in a hard spot, something we wouldn't want."

Harry gulped and willed his cheeks to stop blushing. He absent-mindedly made a swipe at his unkempt hair and ducked his head to avoid her gaze. With a laugh, she waved to Vandermine and exited the room.


	7. Snape's Rival

_Weeks had passed since Voldemort had fallen. Weeks had passed since he became a hunted man. Weeks had passed since he had fled from the Ministry. Those weeks were hell on earth. Dozens of skirmishes with vigilante wizards, Inquisition squads, and Death Eaters. Dozens more added to his growing list of kills. One heart ripped, tortured, and flooded with guilt._

_Rain splattered heavily on the old mountain trail. Another being moved beneath the shadowy foliage. Another kill to be added to his vendetta. Another life shed in vain._

The normal bustle of Hogwarts exploded with the announcement of the Dueling Club's approval. Students from every House clustered around the announcement poster, fighting amongst themselves to see the dates for tryouts. Harry sat back smugly and quietly reviewed the list of requirements for the Club. _Third years and older, one wand in excellent condition, nothing scheduled on Wednesday evenings, and an iron will._ A piece of cake for Harry, but some of his friends lacked those qualities. He winced as the Weasley twins stormed past, minds working feverishly on a plan to sneak in without getting caught for skipping History.

Ron slipped onto the bench beside Harry energetically. Harry stifled a smile as Ron dug heartily into a plate of ribs.

"So, I guess you heard the news."

Ron looked up from a potato and snorted. "Heard about the news? Everyone has heard about it! Imagine, Harry, what this could do for our school!" He settled back in his chair and let out a contented sigh. "Our very own Dueling Club. We are the last big wizard's school to get one. Dumbledore would not allow it for the longest time..."

"Because he had, and still has, no adequate teachers." Hermione frowned as she examined the seat beside Ron and chose to sit on Harry's other side. Secretly Harry felt pleased by her choice. She ignored them for a moment and selected an untouched salad near her place. "If it were not for the pressure from certain authorities and contributors, Dumbledore would have refused. I doubt that he really trusts Vandermine at all."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Oh, sure. He distrusts him enough to place him in charge of Hogwart's security."

"But," she added with emphasis, " the dementors stay. Vandermine isn't the only layer of security here."

"Nor do I plan to be." The three students jumped as Vandermine strode over to them. "Honestly, Hermione, I expected a little bit more trust from you after saving your life twice."

Hermione snapped back an unintelligible remark about hounding young girls and ferociously attacked her salad. Vandermine shrugged apologetically and patted Ron's shoulder.

"If you try hard, I'm sure you could get into the Club. You two have the potential to become great wizards."

Ron cast Harry a sidelong glance. "Isn't Harry already a great wizard? I mean, after taking on Voldemort and all, isn't he great?"

Vandermine shook his head. "Harry has accomplished great things, but that is no qualification for greatness." He poked Harry in the chest. "Real greatness comes from inside, in the heart. Voldemort was powerful, but he was not great." Vandermine ignored the pained expression that crossed Ron's face as he said the name. "He never will be, because he lacks the qualities that make him a real man. All he knows is greed, lust and power. No, the heart decides greatness. Harry came off with miracles and luck so far, but he is not a great wizard yet. His power still lies dormant, but his heart is proceeding along the path."

Hermione rolled her eyes and rose with her salad. "You speak as if you knew what you are talking about."

Shock rode down Harry's face. Never in his life had he encountered such venom from Hermione. She sounded like she had aimed that harder than a plain jab. She really meant that one. He started to rise, but Vandermine held him down with an iron hand. He was even more surprised by Vandermine's reaction.

He spoke softly, almost too softly to hear. "I know what I'm talking about. I once had a heart, but I made the mistake of giving it away. That is the reason why I committed the crimes of my past. That is why I've made the mistakes of my past."

Hermione's reply was filled with sarcasm. "And I'm sure that your family's past had _nothing_ to do with anything. After all, it's not like you have any psychotic murderers or the like in your family tree."

Vandermine stiffened ever so slightly at her remark. His eyes grew hard and for a moment Harry thought he was about to explode, his hand shook so hard. His gaze flicked across the room and held in place for a moment before returning his attention to Harry, much calmer and more in control. Harry and Ron stole a glance over and saw Kathryn Stringer looking his direction. She was looking at Vandermine with a worried expression. She almost looked afraid. Harry and Ron exchanged bewildered looks.

Whatever was about to have happened, they were glad she had been there to cool him down, even if she had done it from across the room.

"Hey, Boy-wonder, what are you doing here?"

Ron cast a swift peek over Harry's shoulder and groaned. "It's Malfoy."

Harry grunted. "No kidding." He deliberately swung his legs over the bench one at a time and rose to face Malfoy. "What do you think that I would be doing here? You see, there is this amazing invention called a table. People sit at it, eat at it, and talk with others at it. You should try it some time, if you aren't afraid of dirtying your royal butt."

Draco scowled and glanced at Vandermine. "You always did hang out with the trash. Just wait until my dad gets rid of your precious little guardian. He was furious when he heard about that," he sneered at Vandermine, "that thing being here."

Vandermine huffed and faced Draco. "Your dear father would not even think of removing my team. If you want to know why, ask him why you are an only child next time you see him."

Ron ducked his head and concentrated on a piece of loose string in his robe, his ears rapidly turning red. Harry however, bit his lip and strode past the stunned Draco before he lost control. Unrestrained laughter broke out from the Gryffindor table as Draco stormed out of the Hall with Crabbe and Goyle.

Professor Snape was in a foul mood during the following Potions class. Points were taken off of the Gryffindors left and right as he brushed through the lesson. With half an hour left, he finally ended his lecture and wrote a list of material on the board.

"You have this last half hour to create this potion. Slytherins, get your supplies now. All other Houses may gather their supplies after the Slytherins are done."

Ron looked at the board and groaned. The potion took at least twenty-five minutes to create, and the Slytherins did not seem in any great hurry. It took them six whole minutes to gather their supplies and retake their places. Draco snickered as Harry trudged past with his tray of materials. The whole class heard the barely stifled incantation.

"_Mani levitae_."

The tray rose two centimeters above Harry's hands and crashed on the ground. Snape spun around from his book that he was reading and took in the situation in a glance. Harry stood in the middle of a pile of smoking rot, glaring hatefully at Draco's triumphant face.

"Mr. Potter," Snape's face darkened beyond its usual shade as he advanced on Harry. "Did I ask you to spread those ingredients on the floor? Did I? Thirty points off from Gryffindor for dropping the supplies, and a further five points off for breaking my tray."

Gryffindors across the room groaned in unison. Snape had never taken this many points off of them before this class. Snape cocked his head and opened his mouth to address the crowd when a shadowy figure stepped out from behind the door.

"Excellent observation, Gryffindors. That does seem a bit of an exaggeration, especially when you can replace the supplies from anyone's compost heap. As to the trays, they cost practically nothing, and you have a couple dozen spares, Snape. Forty points back in compensation for poor management and team sabotage." Snape's face turned bright purple as he rounded on the speaker. "Another ten points added on for the mental trauma suffered from that demoralizing attack. Any objections? No. Good."

The room's atmosphere thickened uncomfortably. Snape's eyes spat pure hatred at Vandermine's face. His hands strayed dangerously close to his wand as he struggled to contain his anger. "What are you doing in this room?"

Vandermine seemed unperturbed by Snape's irritation. He walked past Snape and cleaned up the mess with a flick of his wand. "Well, Dumbledore sent me with a message for you. However, I think that an apology is in order before I give it to you."

The students shrank back in their seats and looked anxiously at the door. Snape shook violently and gripped his wand so hard that his knuckles turned white.

"An apology? For what? To you, an immoral, Muggle-marrying, blood-sucking, murdering…"

Snape never had time to finish his ranting. Vandermine's hand shot forward and knocked his wand away with superhuman speed. In a flash he had trapped Snape against his desk and pinned him down in a submission hold.

Pity was the last thing on Vandermine's face as he twisted Snape's arm into an irregular position. "I resent the immoral part, Snape."

He casually tossed Snape backwards into his office door and stalked out of the room, remarking as he did, "Don't even try it, Snape. You would lose."

For the last twenty minutes of class everyone bent low over their desks, praying that Snape would not lash out at them for anything. Even Malfoy huddled in his seat.


	8. Tryouts

_He could smell their fear, the cowards. From his post in the tree he watched them sneak into the house, one at a time. Once he was sure they were all their, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, silvery cylinder. It was an inch wide and had a tiny red button on one end. He grimaced as he placed his thumb over the button. They were Death Eaters, one and all. They deserved this death, at the hands of something non-magical. He laughed to himself at the irony of it. _The precious purebloods, taken down by Muggle weapons._ This would be one to remember, one to relish for the rest of his days without his wife and child_. _He pushed the button and the house disappeared in a ball of flame._

By the time Harry had arrived at the room for tryouts, there was already a sizable crowd at the door. McDouglass and Schmitt sat just inside the doors at a desk, taking down the names of those trying out for the club. Vandermine and Stringer stood at a podium at the head of the room, in front of a rapidly swelling sea of chairs. Harry gave Schmitt his name and hurried over to his friends, grabbing a seat between Neville and Ron.

"Did I miss anything?"

Ron shook his head. "Just a bunch of kids asking for autographs. It looks like half the school applied for this club."

"Not much of a surprise there. This thing seems to be a big hit."

Neville leaned closer and whispered to Harry, "How do you think they'll have us tryout? I hope I stay with you guys."

"Don't worry about it, Neville. You'll do fine."

Neville did not seem convinced, but he agreed. Then he saw someone else from Gryffindor and rose to get their attention.

"Ron leaned over and jerked his head in Neville's direction. "no offense to him, but I doubt he'll make it. He-"

"Ron," Harry scowled and Ron fell back in his seat, holding up his hands apologetically.

"Just saying."

"Keep it to yourself. You never know with Vandermine. After all, he helped Neville take on the giants."

Neville dropped back down into his seat, disappointment on his face. "Seamus didn't see us. He's over there, with Lee, Fred and… wait a minute, aren't they supposed to be in class?"

Ron and Harry stood up to get a better view. Sure enough, Fred, George and Lee were sitting low in their seats, in the back, trying to stay unnoticed at the moment. Ron scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Like they'll make it. They'll be sent packing in a few, don't you worry."

Neville laughed at his Ron's confidence and toyed distractedly with the cross necklace he was wearing. Harry glanced at it and saw that it was the same one from when he had met Neville leaving Vandermine's office.

"Neville, what's with the necklace? Didn't Vandermine give it to you?"

Neville stared at Harry for a moment before recognition dawned on his face. "The necklace? Oh, that's right. You were there, I forgot." He paused and stroked the necklace. A pained expression crossed his face. "This belonged to my mother before… you know… they died."

Harry and Ron's mouths dropped open in astonishment. Harry recovered before Ron and patted Neville on the shoulder.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

"No, it's fine." Neville reached for the necklace again. It glowed faintly at his touch. "My mother wore this necklace when she was faced with danger or hard tasks. Vandermine said it gave her courage. I think he's right. I always feel better when I hold it."

"How did Vandermine get it?" Ron blurted out.

Neville's face drooped and Harry thought he saw a single tear form in his eye.

"He was part of the team that found their bodies. He said that they had been close before You-Know-Who attacked. He said they had saved his life a few times." His voice broke and Harry heard a choked sob escape his lips. "He… said that they… they were the best wizards he had ever known."

Harry let out a low whistle and cast Ron a meaningful glance. Ron nodded and leaned back, keeping his mouth firmly shut. Neville leaned forward and buried his head in his hands, trying to halt the flow of tears.

"It's okay, Neville."

Neville sniffled and wiped away the tears. He cleared his throat and sat straight in his seat. His eyes were very red, but he looked rather calm considering he had just been crying a second ago. Harry noticed that his hand was clutched tightly around the necklace. It was glowing brighter now.

"Thanks, Harry. Sorry about that. Oh, we're starting."

Harry looked back over to the podium. Vandermine was whispering something to Stringer. She listened and nodded affirmatively before marching off down an aisle. She walked right up to Fred, George and Lee.

"Busted," Ron said.

Fred, George and Lee groaned as she pointed to the door. They stood and shuffled out, grumbling and complaining about the History class. Harry, Ron and Neville laughed as they left. It was good to see them get caught every once in a while.

Vandermine tapped his wand on the podium and everyone quieted down. Harry took the opportunity to study his appearance, noticing the dramatic change from his usual garb. He wore plain Muggle clothes, a long-sleeved shirt under a padded, tight-fitting jacket. A long pair of jeans and brown boots completed his wardrobe. He had an elongated wand strapped to his hip. It was two feet long and Harry had the distinct feeling that it had a blade running up the last half of it.

"Students," Vandermine began, "I thank you all for coming. It is good to know that there is such an interest in this Dueling Club. This Club has not been allowed at Hogwarts for some time. Dumbledore graciously agreed to reinstate it, and put me in charge of it. This Club will cover a wide range of topics: fencing, dueling, flying, targeting and, for those who feel up to it, racing.

"For your tryouts we will split you all up by your Houses. Each House will proceed from one station to the next when they are done. These stations include spellcasting, the senses, flexibility and strength, and endurance. One of us," he indicated the members of his team, "will be at each station. Your House member will lead you to your first station."

Vandermine stepped down from the podium and waved to the Gryffindors. They rose from their seats and followed him out of the room. He led them down the hallway before turning abruptly into a room hidden between two paintings. They filed in and spread out along the near wall.

The room was huge, about half the size of the Great Hall. Harry saw a long, circular track running around the edge of the room, as well as large square areas marked off with chalk. He recognized most of the stuff from the public school PE classes he took. A knot formed in his stomach as Vandermine faced them.

"All right Gryffindors, welcome to the endurance room. Here I will test your speed, strength and endurance." Several of the students looked at him curiously. Harry realized that they were all from wizarding families; they had never done PE before. "Form a line on the track."

The students lined up obediently. Vandermine looked at the line carefully, making several adjustments to their order. Finally satisfied, he pulled a whistle out from a pocket and addressed them.

"This drill is called the Indian Run. When I blow the whistle, starting jogging. Next time I blow the whistle, the person at the rear of the line will tap the one ahead of him on the shoulder and sprint to the front. Any questions?"

No one spoke, but Harry could see some looking uncomfortable. He groaned inwardly as Vandermine raised the whistle to his lips. He had hated these in PE. Dudley and his friends had always been tripping him as he ran to the front. His glasses had gotten broken more than once from one of their trips.

"Let's do this," Vandermine whispered, and he blew a short, clear note on the whistle. The students took off at once. At first it was easy, with Vandermine blowing the whistle about once every fifteen seconds. But by the time they had made three laps around the room, he was blowing the whistle almost constantly. They ran three more laps at that pace.

Harry gritted his teeth to keep a frustrated groan in as they rounded the corner to start their seventh lap. He was near the rear of the line. Neville and Ron were just ahead of him. Neville was panting and heaving, Ron was puffing like a bullfrog. Harry seemed to be in the best shape of the bunch. They had made it halfway through the lap when they heard Vandermine shout, "Sprint to the finish and you're done."

At once the pace picked up, with the exhausted students running as fast as they could to be done with the running. Harry stayed back with Ron and Neville, encouraging them the rest of the way. They were the last ones across the line. Ron and Neville immediately collapsed on the ground, gasping for air, while Harry leaned forward and put his arms on his knees.

Vandermine watched them all with a blank face. He gave them a minute to rest and then told them to form back up in the chalk-marked area. "Who knows how to do pushups?" They all stared at him blankly. He stared back, Harry thought that he might have actually been surprised.

Harry raised a hand timidly. He had done them before, kind of. At least he knew what they looked like.

"I think I know how to, sir."

Harry dropped his hand quickly as Neville stepped forward. He looked nervous, but Vandermine nodded appreciatively and indicated a spot on the floor.

"Let me see it."

Neville lay flat on his belly, shaking like a leaf. He put his arms out beside his shoulders and held his feet together straight behind him. Then he pushed off slowly, rising until his back was flat and supported by his hands and feet. Then, slowly again, he lowered himself down until his nose touched the floor. He pushed himself up once more and then lowered himself back onto the floor. He stood up rubbing his arms, which were no doubt sore from the running. He had a peculiar way of running, with his arms flailing forward and back like scythes. Harry had not bothered telling him, but it actually slowed him down and was bad for his shoulders.

Vandermine gave him a thumbs up and turned to the others. "That is a pushup. His form was a bit loose, but it was better than I expected from a young wizard. You guys are brought up soft, no offense." He added quickly. "Everyone find a spot on the floor and do as many as you can for five minutes. Do not push yourselves too hard. Keep track of how many you have done so I can record it."

The students spread out and took positions on the floor. Soon the air was full of grunting and smelled of sweat as they pumped out as many pushups as they could. Harry tried to keep a strong pace of one every two seconds, but four minutes later his arms shook so bad he had to take ten second breaks between each one. By the time their period with Vandermine was over, they were all exhausted, sore and soaked with sweat. They passed the Ravenclaws on their way to the next station. Harry could not suppress a grin at the horrified looks on some of the youngest Ravenclaws when they saw the sorry state they were in. He stifled a laugh when one of the Gryffindors, Seamus, called out to them, "Have fun, Ravens."

The room they had been in before was completely different from when they had first entered it. The floor was completely bare except for twenty evenly spaced pillows lying on the ground. Kathryn Stringer welcomed them in and pointed them towards the seats. There were a couple left over, and she dismissed them with a wave of her wand.

"Right," she started, "I've got you for the next fifteen minutes. We'll be working on flexibility and strength in here, so-"

Ron raised his hand and she stopped. "Yes, Weasely."

Ron's cheeks flushed a little as she looked at him. "Sorry maam… uh miss, but didn't we just get tested for strength?"

She laughed, not at him, but at the faces on the others. "This isn't the same thing. I'll explain it when we get there. But for now, I want you all to slide off your pillows and spread your legs."

Harry glanced quizzically at Ron, who shrugged, and they hopped off. Stringer rose and walked among them. "Good, now reach down and touch you right foot. Keep your leg straight." Harry leaned over and reached for his foot. To his surprise, he hardly got his hand to his shoe. After a few seconds she told them to switch feet.

Harry smiled to himself as they stretched. This was a lot easier than Vandermine's work. The stretches were relaxing and felt good on his muscles. The only problem was that it got harder and harder to concentrate on the stretches as time went on and they got to more complex stretches. Kathryn Stringer was walking around offering tips, helping and demonstrating how to do the stretches. Every once in a while he stole a glance around the room and saw that he was not the only one distracted. A couple of the boys were staring openmouthed at her as she went from one person to the next, correcting mistakes.

She noticed their looks and flashed them a smile. The boys faces flushed deep red and they went back to the stretches. Out of the corner of his eye Harry saw the girls behind them kick them lightly. He chuckled at that.

The fifteen minutes disappeared in a flash. Soon they were outside on the lawn, looking at Martin Schmitt. He looked a lot more sinister in the moonlight, almost demonic. He stood in the middle of a circle in the lawn. One by one the students took turns standing in the circle. Inside they were bombarded with sounds, feelings, smells and touches. It was a hectic and crazy experience, several of the students freaked out, but it was by far the easiest one yet. Harry kept his head in the circle and came out with a good score.

After fifteen minutes they were sent over to the final station. Judder McDouglass stood at what looked like a Muggle shooting range. He lined the students up at the waist-high wall and they spent fifteen minutes blasting objects out of the air. It reminded Harry of the class they had had with Professor Lupin. This time they were graded differently, though. The more complex the spell, the more points they got for making a hit. Firing a load of quick, easy spells was an easy way to get points, but when he fired the slower, more complex ones, his score rose exponentially.

Finally, a quiet but piercing whistle echoed across the grounds. McDouglass looked up from the range when he heard it and waved his wand to get their attention.

"Form up, kids. We're heading back to the room." He waved his wand again and a the air in front of them shimmered. A door appeared and he held it open. They walked through and found themselves in the main room. The chairs were back, so they filed in and took their original places. Slytherin was already there and Harry saw Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle sitting off to one side. They were all gasping for breath and Harry guessed, by the way Draco's face was twisted, that not all of the tests had gone well for them. He nudged Ron in the shoulder and pointed. They laughed quietly.

Once the other Houses had taken their seats, Vandermine went back to the podium. He looked at them all for a moment before starting.

"You all have done well. We'll be dismissing you back to your dorms in a few minutes. The results will be posted in the Great Hall by breakfast time." He paused and cleared his throat. "before you go though, I heard several of you talking about the fencing course. We will probably not have that this year at the school." Ignoring some grumbled protests, he went on. "It is too complicated and dangerous for you to try in your first year of the Club. However, Miss Stringer has agreed to give you a demonstration of what it looks like." Several of the students clapped.

Harry felt Ron bouncing in his seat as Vandermine and Stringer cleared the area where they would be fighting. He looked over and asked, "Have you ever seen this?"

Ron nodded enthusiastically. "I've seen it once, but the fighters were not very good. It is amazing to watch. Quiet, they're starting."

Vandermine and Stringer were standing facing each other, dueling wands in hand. They stood perfectly still while McDouglass approached with his wand in the air.

"Ready," he said. They both nodded. "Fight."

Stringer moved as soon as he spoke. She lunged forward, swinging her wand at his head. Vandermine bent backwards and brought his wand up at her wrist. She dodged at the last second, spinning to his right and sweeping low. Vandermine jumped over her wand and lashed out for her unprotected back. His wand stopped short though, as she fell to the ground and rolled on her back, bringing her wand to bear. There was a flash as they connected and fire shot out of both wands. His blue fire mingled with a purple stream of water, forming a hissing barrier between them that forced them both back.

Vandermine took a couple steps back, spinning his wand over in his hand experimentally. As soon as the steam died out he dove forward, slicing underneath the expected strike and coming to his feet on her left side. She stepped forward and away from him, whipping her wand between them just in time to deflect a well-aimed strike that would have hit her in the shoulder.

Harry leaned over to Ron, who was totally engrossed in the fight. "Is it usually like this? With the flames and all?"

Ron nodded distractedly. "Yeah, isn't it great? They are so much better than the last match I saw." Harry sighed and shook his head. It looked a lot harder than when Vandermine had described it. Suddenly Ron grabbed Harry's arm and pointed. "Look, a parry!"

Harry looked in time to see Stringer stumbling backwards, smoke coming from her wand. Parts of her hair were frozen, and she shivered as if cold. Vandermine was doing the same. The jacket sleeve of his left arm was coated in ice and he shook it to keep the blood flowing.

"What's a parry?"

Ron looked at Harry and grinned. "It's when their wands cast the same spell as they hit. The spells repel each other right back in the faces of the users. Depending on the spell, the effects of a parry differ. Ice parries, like that one, shoot ice back at the users. Fire parries create fireballs… There they go again."

Harry turned back to watch the duel. Vandermine and Stringer were blurs of motion now. Their wands struck up, down, across, clashed and withdrew faster than Harry could follow. Flashes of fire, lightning and water lit the makeshift arena as they fought. Stringer spun and twisted like a dervish as she sought an opening in Vandermine's defenses. Vandermine mixed hard, heavy strikes with quick lunges as she danced around him. Both came close to hitting the other time and time again, but the other was always to fast for the wand, blocking or dodging with scant inches to spare.

There was no noise in the hall other than the two fighters, apart from scattered clapping or muttering at a particularly amazing move. Harry stole a glance at Neville as the fight went on. He was staring unblinkingly as they fought. A single tear rolled down Neville's cheek. Harry frowned and started to ask Neville if he was fine, but though better of it and looked back at the fight.

The duel had been going on for five minutes when Vandermine ended the fight. He raised his wand in both hands and brought it down in what surely would have been a massive blow. Stringer rolled to the right at the last moment. Vandermine changed the direction of his blow as she rolled, following the move. She jumped to her feet on his left side to find his wand a mere inch from her eye. She froze, as did the students, as the wand stayed there, waving slightly in the air. Then Vandermine lowered the wand, and Stringer put her wand back in its sheath.

The hall was silent for a moment, then interrupted as the students cheered. Ron was on his feet, whooping and hollering in delight. Harry chuckled and rose slowly. Vandermine dismissed them, and he returned to the dorm. It was well past eleven when he climbed into the bed. Neville followed right behind him, with Ron at his side talking excitedly about the match.

"Neville," Harry said as they turned out the lights, "are you all right? You looked a little upset by the match."

There was an uncomfortable silence as Neville struggled to respond.

"'M fine. It's just that, well, my parents did that, back in the day. I remember watching clips from their fights. They were good at it too." Neville sighed. "Goodnight Harry. See you in the morning."


	9. Vandermine's Office

_He remembered the last time he had seen her alive; at the house, holding the baby in her arms. He told her he was going to be gone for only a day. Just a routine job, nothing more. How wrong he was. How was he to know that it was a trap, that ten Death Eaters were waiting for him. How was he to know that it was only a lure to draw him away from those he loved. If he had only known, he would have stayed home. He would have fought, and died, protecting his family. But no, he had been a fool. Now his wife was dead, his daughter gone. If only he had known._

Harry dressed hurriedly the next morning. He and Ron rushed down to the Great Hall, anxious to see the results of the tryouts. He and Ron exchanged theories about the tryouts as they went.

"Do you think Neville made it?" Ron asked.

"Probably," Harry said. "After all, he did about average on everything."

"What about Seamus? He didn't do so well."

"Yeah, I'm not sure about him. Who knows though. I have no clue how they'd have graded it."

When they reached the Hall, they saw that there was a sizeable crowd already there. Students were discussing the tryouts and results all over the Hall. Neville greeted them as they approached the crowd. His face was beaming.

"I can't believe it Harry!" he shouted. "I got in! I made it into the Third-Level." Neville looked close to bursting with joy.

"Um, great. Good job." Harry shook his hand and squeezed by into the crowd. The results from the tryout were split into four parts. Each part was labeled as a level, one through four, and each had about twenty names in it. Harry found Ron and his names under Third-Level, same as Neville's. He scanned the paper for other names and paused when he saw Hermione's. _How could she have made it? She was not at the tryouts._

Harry edged his way out of the crowd and found Ron, who had already taken his seat at the table. Harry sat down beside him and glanced around. Hermione was not in the Hall yet, so turned to Ron.

"Ron, did you notice anything unusual about the results sheet?"

Ron looked up from a mouthful of toast and shook his head. "No. It looked fine to me. Why do you ask?"

Harry checked to make sure no one was listening and leaned in closer. "Hermione made it in."

It took Ron a moment to realize what he had said. His eyes opened wide and for a moment Harry thought that he would choke on his toast.

"She what? How could Hermione make-"

"Make what?" Hermione appeared beside them, her massive tote bag slung over her shoulder and a book in her hands. "What can I make?"

"Nothing." Harry grabbed a piece of chicken. "Just commenting on the results from last night."

"I know," Hermione said, not looking up from her book. "Pretty exciting, huh."

"You know, for someone who got in without even coming to the tryouts, you sure don't sound enthusiastic about getting in." Neville spoke before Harry could stop him. Seeing Harry's warning look too late, he snapped his mouth shut. Harry heard a muffled 'oops.'

If Hermione had heard the remark, she chose to ignore it. For the rest of the meal she kept her nose buried in her book. Only when breakfast was over did she put it down, and then only to pick her tote bag up again. Harry gave Ron a shrug as they followed her to class. Ever since the year had begun, she had been acting strange. Harry decided to go ask Vandermine about it after class.

It wasn't until early in the afternoon that Harry had enough time to go see Vandermine. He left Ron at the Gryffindor dorm entrance and hurried down the hall. He had Quidditch practice in less than an hour, and he wanted to get some work done before then.

There was no answer when Harry knocked, so he let himself in.

"Vandermine." The room was empty. Harry looked around curiously. The room had changed. The racks of weapons and magical artifacts had been removed. Instead, the walls were covered in clippings from newspapers. Most came from the Wizard papers, but a fair handful were from Muggle papers. Harry looked closer and saw that they all involved the death of someone or something. Several of the names were familiar, all former Death Eaters or dark creatures. There were deaths by curses, strangling, stabbing, and a dozen other ways. It did not take Harry long to realize that these were all from operations carried out by Vandermine and his squad.

Harry moved along the wall, studying the different stories. He recognized some from the stories Ron had told him. Here was a story about when Vandermine dueled with the German wizard Johannes Outrider, and won. Outrider was an ancient werewolf, kept alive by dark magic. At the time of his death, he had grown to the size of a small car and was permanently transformed into his were-form. Vandermine had taken him down single handedly, much to the dismay of the Ministry, who had sent him. They had sent him in an effort to get rid of him, but he had come through unscathed, supposedly. Ever since that fight he had begun acting strange, and there were rumors that he had been bitten by Outrider.

The story clippings continued all the way to Vandermine's desk. Harry traced a pattern on the desk idly while he read a clipping about a minor giant insurrection in northern Scotland. He froze when his fingers knocked over a solid wooden frame. He turned to face the desk, and saw a picture lying flat on its face. Carefully, he picked it up and turned it to inspect it for cracks. His breath caught in his throat as he saw the inhabitants of the picture.

One of the most gorgeous woman Harry had ever seen was smiling at him from in the picture. In her arms was a tiny little baby, barely a month old. The baby was sleeping quietly in the woman's arms, oblivious to the people and noises around it. Harry examines the picture slowly, looking at the woman. She was beautiful, with thick brown hair that rested in curls around her shoulders. Her face was soft and bright, making Harry's face flush in spite of himself. She looked familiar, especially the hair. He racked his brain hard, thinking of where he had seen her before. He could almost place it-

Something fell to the ground with a crash behind him. Harry jumped, spinning around and looking for what fell over.

Vandermine stood in the doorway, accompanied by Kathryn Stringer. His eyes flicked from Harry to the picture he was holding, and then back to Harry. Without a word he strode across the room and snatched it out of Harry's hand. He placed it on the desk and faced Harry, his face twisted in a furious snarl.

"Get out."

Harry's eyes widened at the intensity of his gaze and he took a step backwards.

"Sorry, sir." He mumbled. "I was just-"

"Get out." Vandermine was starting to shake with anger. As Harry walked to the door, he looked over his shoulder, apologizing the whole way.

"I didn't mean to… I accidentally-"

"Get out!" Vandermine shouted at him. The anger in his voice made Harry's skin crawl. He turned away from Vandermine and ran for the door. He paused at the doorway for a moment and turned back to Vandermine, trying to apologize one last time. A vase soared past his head, missing by inches and shattering by his ear. He jumped and dove out the door, terrified by the close call.

As he shut the door he heard Kathryn Stringer pleading with Vandermine to calm down, and Vandermine was shouting at her too. Words were being tossed back and forth that Harry had never heard before, but, by the sound of them, they were all variants of cursing. Harry had just made it ten feet down the hall when the door flew open and Kathryn Stringer burst out of the room. Harry stopped in shock when he saw the tears running down her cheeks. Seeing him, she turned abruptly and hurried off down the other direction, sobbing into her hands. Vandermine came out the door just as she rounded the corner. Harry ducked behind a statue and reached for his Invisibility Cloak. To his dismay, he remembered that it was still sitting in his dorm room.

"Kathryn, wait. I'm sorry." Vandermine looked down both hallways and swore. Shaking his head, he stormed back into the room and slammed the door behind him. Harry inhaled sharply at the impact, he felt it from his hiding spot ten feet away.

The door to Vandermine's office had bounced open. Against his better judgment, Harry found himself creeping back to the door. He stopped just beside it and leaned as close as he dared, straining to hear what was going on inside. Not a sound came from the room. Harry leaned further towards the door to see what was happening inside.

Vandermine was sitting in a chair with his head in his hands. The picture that Harry had found was lying on the floor face up in front of him. Harry could tell that Vandermine was arguing with himself. Vandermine rocked back and forth in the chair, his eyes never leaving the picture the whole time. Harry risked moving a bit closer to hear him.

"…what am I supposed to do? I can't tell her, I just can't. She'd never believe me." Vandermine rose suddenly and shook his head.

"But what if she would accept me? I might not have another chance to…" he paused and threw his hands up in the air. With a frustrated groan he flopped back in the seat. "Who am I kidding. She'd never understand. It's better that she doesn't know." His voice quieted and he reached down for the picture.

"I need you, Amy."

Harry almost put a foot into the room when Vandermine's head jerked up. With a jolt Harry threw himself backwards away from the door. He landed on his back with a thud and scrambled to his feet in a panic. Certain that Vandermine was coming out to see who had been spying on him, he raced down the hall. He barely slowed down when he reached the Pink Lady, shouting the password as soon as he entered her hearing range, Harry rushed through the door and dove inside.

He got to his feet to see Hermione and Ron staring openmouthed at him, stunned by his entrance. Smiling weakly, he gasped for air and pointed to the chairs.

"I need a seat."

Hermione summoned a chair with her wand and Harry fell into it, welcoming the chance to rest. He took a few deep breaths and calmed himself.

"Harry-" Ron began, but Harry cut him off with an upraised hand.

"Wait, Ron. I'll tell you in a second." He took a few more deep breaths and felt his heart returning to its normal pace. "I went to Vandermine's office."

"What did he do?" Hermione leaned forward, a frown on her face. "Did he-"

"Hold it, let me finish." Hermione sat back in the chair looking slightly affronted, but she nodded. Harry looked at Ron meaningfully and continued, "He wasn't in, so I let myself in. I was looking at some of the stories of his missions, they are on the walls now, when I knocked over a picture on his desk. So I picked the picture up and looked at it, and next thing I knew Vandermine came flying into the room and started shouting at me to leave. He was really mad and Kathryn Stringer was with him," he leaned forward and whispered, "She tried to calm him and he started yelling at her. She left the room in tears."

Ron's eyebrows shot up and Hermione's frown deepened. Although Hermione said nothing, Harry could tell that she was mulling over the information in her head.

Harry opened his mouth to speak when she uttered a single word.

"Scum."

"What?" Ron looked at her blankly. "Where?" he started to look around, genuinely confused.

Hermione glared at Ron. "I mean him, idiot. You're 'precious hero.'"

Ron started to protest, but Harry cut him off. "Ron, shut it." Ron scowled, but shut his mouth. He was staring daggers at Hermione, which she returned, her eyes icy cold.

Harry cleared his throat to get their attention. They broke eye contact just long enough for Harry to seize the initiative and continue the story. "After she had run out, I snuck back to the edge of the door, it was still open."

"Smart, Harry, real smart."

Harry ignored the comment and kept talking, determined to keep Hermione and Ron from fighting. "He was staring at the picture and arguing with himself. Said something about, 'telling her' something."

Hermione snarled slightly, making Harry and Ron jump in surprise. She sank lower in her chair, her eyes staring fixedly at the floor. Harry suddenly felt tired, like he had just sprinted a mile, and relaxed his body, allowing it to rest limp on the chair.

"What do you think it was all about?" Ron asked him. "Sounds to me like you really made him mad."

"Really? I never could have guessed that. It's a good thing we've got someone as smart as you helping." Ron's ears turned red and he rose out of his seat, but Harry grabbed his arm. Silently, Harry cast a pleading look at Ron, who nodded reluctantly and sat back down, still glaring at Hermione. Hermione huffed and rested her head on the back of the chair. "What was in the picture, Harry?"

"I don't remember." Harry replied. "But it sure must have been important. I've never seen anyone that mad before, including Dumbledore."

Ron cast a scathing look at Hermione, who was staring at the ceiling, her eyes unfocused, and shrugged. "Are you sure you don't remember?"

The image of the tall, beautiful brunette returned to Harry's mind. He inhaled sharply as he thought about it. "It was a picture of a woman and a baby. She was about your height, had long brown hair with curls in it and…"

Hermione looked back so suddenly that Harry stopped mid-sentence. She had a curious gleam in her eye. "Was that the picture near the head of his desk, right by the wall?"

Harry nodded dumbly, confused by her sudden interest. "Yeah, how did you know?"

Hermione bowed her head forward and sighed, her elbows on her knees. Harry and Ron leaned in to hear her.

"Now I know why he was mad. That picture, that's his wife."


	10. Tempers flare

"That's his what!" Ron's mouth dropped so hard Harry heard something pop. Hermione heard it too, because she looked over at Ron and sneered.

"That's a disgusting habit, Ron."

Ron glared at her, rubbing his jaw. "Not funny." He looked back at Harry eagerly. "Was she really as hot as they all said she-"

"Ron!"

Hermione stood up and slapped him full across the face. Ron recoiled from the blow. He stared up in shock at Hermione, who stood over him, eyes blazing.

"You sick, perverted, heartless little…" With each word her hand came down again, slapping him relentlessly. "How dare you… you…" Ron curled up in a ball to avoid her blows, shouting for help as she struck him.

"Whoa, hold it. Ow! Cripes!"

"…I'm going to… Harry let me go!"

Harry had leapt to his feet and grabbed her around the waist, lifting her up and pulling her off of Ron. Some of the other Gryffindors in the room rushed over, with some going to Ron, and with some helping Harry subdue Hermione. She was putting up a heck of a struggle, lashing out at anyone within range as she continued yelling at Ron, her voice now close to shrieking levels.

"Don't you ever even think about… I swear I'll beat you senseless… Let me go!"

Harry let Hermione go as a crowd of Gryffindors descended on her, pinning her arms to her sides. He maneuvered around in front of her and put his hands on her shoulders.

"Hermione, calm down. It's me, Harry."

She ignored him, staring instead at Ron, who was slowly lifting his arms off of his head, breathing hard and quaking in fear. She hissed at him and jerked forward, breaking the grip of the others. Harry caught her as she tried to bowl past him and held her at arms length.

"Hermione, listen to me. Snap out of it."

She stopped suddenly, so suddenly that Harry, who had been pushing against her, stumbled forward. Still glaring at Ron, she took long, deep breaths. Ron was staring at her with a look of astonishment and horror.

"That… that scumbag…" Her voice trailed off as Harry shifted his head to block her view. Hermione gave one last frustrated sigh and collapsed in Harry's arms, burying her head on his shoulder. Harry's stomach gave a lurch and he shuddered. Vaguely aware of the looks from the others, he steered her towards the girls' stairway. She didn't resist, but let him guide her without a word. She backed away from him when they reached the stairwell, her eyes red and puffy. His hand fell gently down her arm, giving her a comforting squeeze when it reached her hand.

"Get some sleep, Hermione. I'll deal with this."

Hermione nodded mutely and walked up the stairs without saying goodbye. Harry stared after her, wishing that the giddy feeling in his stomach would go away. Holding her like that… he wished it had been under different circumstances. As Harry turned back to face the common room, he heard her choking back a sob. Suppressing a sigh, Harry shook his head to clear it and walked back into the commons room. Ignoring the stares and questions from the others, he headed straight to Ron.

Ron's face was a mess of welts and bruises. Harry was surprised to see something that looked like nail marks stretching from one side of his face to his nose, leaving three pink lines on his face. He stared wide-eyed at Harry, shaking his head and muttering, "She's bloody mental," over and over again.

Harry gripped Ron by the arm and stood him up. Ron teetered unsteadily and Seamus grabbed his other arm. "Where to, Harry?" he asked.

"Madame Pompfrey's, where else?" Harry started off towards the door and Seamus followed. There were few people in the hallway, since most were either in the library or in their dorms, studying and doing homework. They made most of the trip in silence, Ron in too much pain to speak, Harry too distracted to answer anything. He was trying to focus on getting to the hospital wing. The feeling of holding Hermione like that though, it made him feel…_Like what?_ He wondered. _What's going on? She's my friend, nothing more. But why do I feel so strange?_

"So," Seamus said as they neared the hospital wing. "What'd Ron do the make Hermione flip like that? She was looked near ready to bust a cap on him as I've ever seen."

Ron grunted, and Harry saw that he was frowning at the floor, keen to forget the incident. Harry didn't blame him. Just looking at Ron's face made Harry wince.

Harry felt a twinge of regret as he looked at Ron's bloodied face. _He did deserve it,_ part of him argued. _What he said was pretty insensitive_. As much as he felt that Ron was at fault though, he could not deny that Hermione's reaction was ridiculous. _Why did Hermione find that so insulting? Sure it was not nice, but she hates Vandermine. How could she care for his wife when she hated him so much. _He did not want to blame either of them. They were his two closest friends, after all.

"'M not sure, really," he lied. "Wasn't paying too much attention. I think that she is just stressed out from classes."

"Yeah, you're probably right." Seamus chuckled. "She's got how many classes?"

"Too many." Harry sighed with relief when the hospital entrance came into view. Ron was heavier than he looked.

They dropped Ron off in the hospital wing and Harry hurried back to the dorm to get his broom. As he picked it up, he realized how long they had until dinner. It felt like hours had passed since he had gone to Vandermine's office, but really it had only been about thirty minutes. Brushing off the thought, he grabbed his Quidditch stuff and hurried down to the field.

Practice was horrible. A moderate rain had fallen, leaving visibility low and chilling him to the bone. Harry tried hard to keep track of the Snitch, but every time he got close to it, the image of the Snitch was replaced by Hermione's tearstained face. It shook him when this happened, so much that, after missing the Snitch five times in a row, Oliver Wood pulled him aside, angrily berating him for playing sloppy.

"Just 'cause you're the Seeker doesn't mean you can dawdle the whole bloody practice like it's a picnic. Get your head in the game!" He stormed off back to the goal, leaving Harry standing on the ground muttering excuses. It didn't help that Fred and George had heard about the incident in the dorm already, and were ribbing Harry mercilessly about it.

"Oi, Harry, how's the runt doing?" Fred shouted cheerfully as he sped by Harry, intercepting a Bludger and knocking it back away from the field with such force that it sailed nearly out of sight into the clouds.

By the time practice was over, Harry was tired, soaked and feeling depressed. He changed in the dorm and trudged down to the Hall for dinner, pointedly avoiding the others on the team. A couple other third-years tried to get his attention, but he warned them off with a glare. They retreated from his furious gaze and hung back a few steps, whispering to each other about his bad mood. He did not care.

The sight that greeted him when he entered the Hall did nothing to lighten his mood. Hermione sat alone in the far corner of the Gryffindor table. Word of the fight must have already spread across school. The other Gryffindors were giving her a wide berth as they took their seats for the meal. Malfoy and his gang were pointing and laughing at her, making exaggerated punching motions in the air every time she looked up from her plate. Harry suppressed the urge to draw his wand and shuffled past them, ears burning at the wolf whistles that followed him as he walked over to Hermione. He slid into the spot beside her and cast her a quick glance to see how she was.

If anything, she looked worse than she had when Harry had left her at the stairwell to the bedroom. Her eyes were bloodshot and she stared blankly at the plate in front of her, oblivious to the tempting aroma of food that wafted around them. He helped himself to a roll off of one of the platters.

"So… how are you feeling, Hermione?"

"Terrible." Her voice cracked when she spoke. Harry looked at her again and saw that she was close to tears. "I don't know what came over me. Is, is he all right?"

"Yeah. Shouldn't be in the hospital for more than a day. It'll take a some time for the bruises to die down."

"I guess I should go apologize then."

Harry did not answer, but passed her a platter of food. "Go ahead and eat something, Hermione. You aren't looking well."

Hermione reluctantly took a salad and poked at it with her fork. "I don't feel so well either. I feel like I am going to throw up."

"Well, just remember to throw up that way." He pointed over at the Slytherin table. Hermione looked up and ducked her head down again as Malfoy made another swinging motion with his fist. Harry heard a choked sob and winced. "Sorry, I thought that that would-"

"It's fine. He's right anyway."

"No he's not. The prick is just trying to get to you."

"It's working."

"Not if you don't let it. Come on, cheer up. Ron will be fine. You just need some food and rest."

Hermione gave no indication that she heard him. She continued staring down at the salad, picking at individual pieces with her fork. "I suppose you want to know why I did it."

"Um… I guess, if you want to tell me."

She let out a sigh and straightened, "She was murdered, burned alive from what the reports said. She did one of the most horrible deaths I can think of, and Ron treated it like a joke."

Harry swallowed hard, trying to imagine the pain, "That's horrible."

"It gets worse, trust me." Hermione rose from her seat and motioned to Harry. "Follow me."

Harry got up and followed her as they headed out of the Hall. She led him to the library, as he expected.

Before they could get to the door though, Malfoy appeared, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle. He sneered at them, wand twirling in his hand idly.

"So Potter, got yourself a girlfriend? Not much of a surprise that you went for a Mudblood, is it? Are you sure it's a good idea? She might sock you one in the face when you aren't looking, you know."

Harry did not see who went for the wand faster, him or Hermione. All he knew was that Malfoy was suddenly pinned against the door, two wands at his throat. Malfoy's eyes shot wide in alarm and he opened his mouth to call for help, but Hermione jabbed her wand into his throat, causing him to choke.

"Say it again, Malfoy, I dare you." Hermione's eyes were blazing just like they had back in the dormitory. Harry wondered for a second if she would actually curse him.

"Wands down, now!" Stringer came running down the hall, eyes set on Hermione. She lifted her own wand and Harry and Hermione were knocked back a foot. Harry stumbled on his robe, but managed to stay on his feet. Hermione, who had not noticed Stringer's arrival, tripped and fell on Harry. He caught her and helped her back to her feet in time to see Stringer round on them.

"What's the meaning of this? Potter, explain now."

Harry stuttered and started to speak, but Hermione cut him off.

"It was nothing, Miss Stringer. It will not happen again."

Kathryn Stringer looked from Harry to Draco and scowled. "Fine. Make sure it doesn't happen again. Draco, leave."

Draco nodded grudgingly and stalked off, followed by a confused Crabbe and Goyle. Stringer watched them until they rounded the corner and turned to Harry and Hermione.

"You two have got to control your tempers better around that brat."

Harry gaped at her. He had never seen an adult talk so bluntly about someone like that.

"And cheer up, for gosh sakes, Hermione. It's not like the world is going to end because you vented your anger for once."

Hermione nodded mutely, casting Harry a bewildered glance. He returned it, much to the amusement of Kathryn. She smiled at them and opened the door to the library.

"Have fun, you two."

Hermione pulled Harry into the library by his arm. Her face was flushed as she moved quickly to an abandoned corner of the library. She pulled a couple newspaper clippings out of her bag and set them on the table.

"You want to know why I hate him so much, right? This is why." She slammed the clippings down in front of Harry, eyes watering. "Look at what that monster has done."

Harry gingerly accepted the clippings and read them. Each one was a report about a murder committed by Vandermine. Harry read through fifteen of them before stopping. He looked up at Hermione's expecting face and shrugged.

"Sounds like they were all Death Eaters to me. I don't see what's wrong about it."

Hermione glared at him and handed him a final clipping. "Then read this."

Harry took the paper and did a double take at the picture on it. It showed Lucas Vandermine facing off against a horde of Aurors, and behind his back, cowering against his shoulder, was…

"Bellatrix Lestrange." Harry sank back in his seat, his stomach churning like a grenade had gone off in it.

"Don't you dare tell me that he is a 'good guy' now." Hermione pointed to the date on it. "Two days after she tortured the Longbottoms. _He defended her_ _from the Aurors that had come to arrest her_."

Harry swallowed hard and dropped the paper. "Then, what about Neville? He treats Neville like…"

"Who knows?" Hermione looked at a clock on the wall and rose, gathering the papers and stuffing them into a pocket in her bag. "Time to go to bed. See you later, Harry."


	11. The First Meeting

_He was devastated. His wife was dead, his daughter gone. Why, Lord, why had it happened to him? He had tried so hard to protect her from the magic that haunted his steps. She had known nothing, done nothing wrong. Why did she have to suffer for his crimes? Why did she have to pay his price? Why did he survive, and not his family?_

Harry could barely sleep that night. Twice he woke with a start, images of Vandermine in a Death Eater's mask vividly dancing in his eyes. He tried to shake them off, but they would not stop. It just did not make sense.

_He couldn't have been a Death Eater. He hunted them, slaughtered them, he even murdered them. There is no way that he could have gone bad like that._ But the image from the paper kept returning to his mind. Bellatrix Lestrange, one of the worst of the Death Eaters, hiding behind him in the face of a half-dozen Ministry Aurors. _He must have had a reason. Known something they didn't. But what?_

Harry sighed and stared at the ceiling, counting the flecks of dust as they drifted past him. _There is no way…_

Harry kept his head low that day, avoiding the others as he thought about the picture. He wanted to deny it, to show that it was a fake, a lie, anything. He did not want to believe that this man, a man to whom Dumbledore had entrusted the security of the school, was a… what? A Death Eater? That, Harry knew, was impossible. But what was he? A traitor, a spy? Something did not fit, and Harry was determined to find what it was.

_There is a mistake, I just need to find it._ Harry spent his lunch huddled away from the others, flipping the news story over in his mind. He poked and prodded with his brain, but he could not think of anything. The more he considered it, the more he realized that there were no loopholes, there were no explanations. He resolved to talk to Dumbledore about it, hoping that he would shed light on the subject.

As Harry left the Great Hall, he stopped by Hermione, who was packing up her things.

"Hermione, I was wondering if I could borrow the, um, you know…"

Hermione looked up from the book she was stuffing into her bag and nodded. "Yeah, let me get it." She rummaged through the bag for a minute, pulling out loose papers and scanning them one at a time. "Here it is," she finally said, pulling out the dreaded paper. Harry took it and headed off for Dumbledore's office.

"Hey Harry," Hermione hurried to catch up with him as he exited the Hall. "What are you going to do with it?" She cut in front of him and stood her ground, forcing him to stop and look her in the eye. "You had better not go try and destroy it."

"I won't," Harry promised. "I just wanted to ask Dumbledore about it. There is something about the story that I don't believe. I am hoping that Dumbledore will help."

Hermione scowled and turned away, heading for her class. "You do that, Harry. Don't put your hopes too high, though. He's rotten all the way through, that I promise you."

Harry stared dumbly after her until she rounded the corner and disappeared among the crowd of students. He wondered why she seemed so bent on condemning him. Sure he was creepy and a man with blood on his hands, more so than was usual, but he had never seen Hermione so ardently bent on one goal. She acted like it was her purpose in life to find any faults that he had.

He walked to Dumbledore's office slowly, dreading the prospect of talking about Vandermine with the Headmaster. He hesitated as the gargoyle asked for the password, feeling suddenly unsure about the idea. Then he felt a rush of courage, and he answered and went in. He rushed up the stairs, anxious to get it over with.

Dumbledore welcomed him in with a smile, making Harry feel even worse in his stomach. He sat down uncertainly in the proffered chair, butterflies zooming around inside him like a dozen Snitches. He sat silently for a few moments, trying to collect his thoughts.

Dumbledore watched him impassively, his mind unfathomable behind the kindly eyes that followed Harry's every move. Harry fidgeted under his gaze, feeling horrible inside for bringing this up. Finally, after what seemed like ages, he found the nerve to speak.

"Well, sir, Dumbledore, I had a question about Vandermine, sir." He cleared his throat and flinched as Dumbledore brought his fingers together and leaned forward, his eyes twinkling merrily as they reflected the flames from the nearby fireplace.

"Go on." His voice sounded soft and friendly, but it made Harry feel even worse.

"Sir, um, Hermione and I talked about him and, um-"

"Ah, yes," Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, letting out a low chuckle. "Still convinced that he is the devil himself, isn't she."

Harry's eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he recovered quickly. "yes sir, she is."

"And what did she show you. Some record of his horrible doings, I presume."

Harry swallowed hard and shoved the paper into Dumbledore's outstretched hand, cursing himself as he did so. He watched apprehensively as the smile faded from Dumbledore's face. Dumbledore examined the paper carefully, then raised his head, his face an impenetrable mask of calm. Harry could hear the concern in his voice though, when he spoke.

"Whatever you wanted to know, I am afraid you must go to Vandermine himself for the answers. This brings up a chapter in his history that few know the real truth about. He has told few, very few, about the truth behind this. He trusted me enough to tell me, and I wish he had not, now that I have seen the pain that it caused him, and still causes him to this day. I trust him full, and I would not betray his trust for anything."

Harry started to protest, but Dumbledore waved him silent and pointed to the door. "That is all, Harry. You may leave." There was a hint of force behind the calm words, so Harry rose and headed for the exit without a word.

"Be warned, Harry," Dumbledore called out to him as he left. "The answers you seek are painful, very painful to him. Getting these answers will cause more harm than good. Believe me when I say that some things are best left alone."

Harry sighed and left the room, the warning ringing in his ears.

The meeting room for the Dueling Club was the same one from last year, where Harry had first spoken in Parseltongue publicly. He entered the room cautiously, Dumbledore's words fresh on his mind. Not knowing what to expect, he looked around quickly as the door opened.

To his relief, the room was exactly the same as when it was last year. Most of the Third Level students were already there, milling around uncertainly in groups. Malfoy stood off to the side, surrounded by the few Slytherins that had made it into the Third level. Harry saw Hermione and Ron on opposite sides of the room. They were glaring daggers at each other. Harry hesitated, trying to decide who to go to, and went over to Hermione. She acknowledged him with a curt nod and went back to glaring at Ron.

"Well, what did he say," she whispered out of the corner of her mouth, never taking her eyes off of Ron.

Harry shrugged. "He told me to ask Vandermine himself."

"Are you going to ask him?"

"Not sure yet. Dumbledore said it is a pretty painful memory."

Harry could feel the sarcasm rolling off Hermione when she heard this. "Painful? How painful could being forced to admit that he aided a convicted Death Eater escape custody be? Especially for him, with all the things he did."

Harry turned to her and let out an exasperated sigh. "Just what is your problem with him anyway, Hermione? It is ridiculous how much you hate him."

Hermione jabbed him in the stomach with her elbow. "Quiet, here he comes."

Harry turned back to the front of the room in time to see Vandermine shutting the door to the teacher's room. As the students scrambled to face him, he strode down the steps and motioned for them to circle up around the platform. He jumped on top of it and faced them, eyes wandering among them as he paced it.

"Greetings, Third Level students. Good to see you." He bowed his head a little in acknowledgement. "Third Level means that you have a well-developed proficiency in basic spells and are old enough to take this Club maturely. The Fourth Level, the only level above your own, is reserved for those in the sixth or seventh year that have considerable prowess and abilities.

"Because of the nature of this Club, Dumbledore has seen fit to promote my position, and the position of the others, to those of Teachers. This means we can, and we will, dock you points for screwing around or fighting outside of the rules. This Club is not somewhere to goof off or a place to learn skills to put to use in the hallways or classrooms. What happens in this room stays in this room." He stopped and looked towards Harry and Malfoy as he spoke, eying them meaningfully. "Any reported horseplay and you will receive the proverbial boot out of this Club. Am I clear?" The students nodded obediently.

"Good." Vandermine crossed his arms and pointed at the ends of the platform. "Malfoy, Potter, you're up." As Harry and Draco climbed up to their respective platform positions Vandermine continued, facing the remaining students.

"The first thing that you will learn in this Club is elementary dueling. I know there was an _attempt_ at teaching you this last year, but nothing came of it. This year we will be doing the real thing; proper dueling. I know that you two," he pointed to Harry and Draco, "have had some practice with this. Therefore you two will give us a demonstration."

He cleared the platform and raised his wand. A shimmering, transparent barrier formed between them. "You will draw your wands on my mark. You can move, dodge, shield, anything to avoid being hit. _Expelliarmus only_ though. I don't want to have to send one or both of you to the hospital wing. Anything else and you won't be coming back."

Harry nodded distractedly. His eyes were focused on Draco, noting the twitch of his hand as he brushed his wand, trying to sense how quickly he would draw. He barely heard Vandermine as he counted down from three. All that was in his mind was Draco and his wand.

"Draw."

The barrier separating them abruptly dropped, giving Harry a clear view. Harry whipped his wand out in a blur, aiming and shooting the spell before he had time to steady his aim. Draco fired at the same time. The spells shot straight through each other, wavering as the energies passed over and through like water. Then the spells broke apart and hurtled forward, catching both students and knocking them back a foot. Their wands flew in the air and landed near the middle of the platform.

Vandermine stepped between them and held up his hands. "That was good. Your reaction times are short, and your aim is accurate. Now what did you do wrong?"

Harry looked at him blankly, thinking about what he did wrong. He pulled his wand out fast, he aimed and fired quickly, he watched the spell go and hit… he did not dodge. He raised his hand, but Vandermine had already gone on.

"They did not dodge. The first fundamental rule of dueling: dodge." Vandermine looked from one student to the next as he spoke, as if checking them to see how they were taking the information. "Being the first to get a spell off won't help worth a hill of beans if you don't dodge the other's shot. Or you could block it, but that would take some frantic spellwork and luck to pull off. Watch how it works." He moved toward Harry and motioned for him to step aside. Harry hopped down from the platform and hurried over to Hermione. She grinned as he stood by her.

"That was a nice shot." She whispered. "I think you got your spell off before Draco did."

Harry suppressed a grin and watched the platform. Vandermine was facing Draco, who looked nervous (to Harry's delight). Vandermine faced Draco, his hand straying dangerously close to his wand.

"On three." Draco nodded, his face paling rapidly.

"Three." Draco inhaled deeply, trying to calm his shaking hand.

"Two." Whispers broke out among the watching students as sweat appeared on Draco's forehead.

"One." The whole crowd fell silent, watching the two duelists with rapt attention.

"Draw."

Draco whipped out his wand and fired a quick spell in desperation. Vandermine, standing quietly with his wand still holstered, merely sidestepped the spell.

"Again." Draco took a measured breath and fired an aimed spell. Vandermine followed the spell in with his eyes, bending to the side at the last moment to avoid the shot.

"Try more than one." Draco, his face completely pale and covered in sweat, swore under his breath and launched three quick spells, spacing the spells evenly across the chest region. Vandermine dropped to a crouch as the spells closed in and drew his wand.

"Expelliarmus!" Draco's eyes shined with fear as the spell closed in and he took a step to the side, cursing as the spell whipped past his head, causing his hair to stand on end. He spun back to face Vandermine, who casually disarmed him with a second shot.

"That was very good, Draco. Five points to Slytherin." Harry groaned as Draco slid off the platform, looking both terrified and relieved as the other Slytherins welcomed him back to their huddle with pats on the back.

Vandermine quieted the crowd with an upraised hand and pointed to Draco. "Draco did well, both in aiming his spells and keeping his head cool enough to dodge that first spell. On the second one he did not have a chance, because of the way he dodged the first one, but it was a good start." He indicated two others from the crowd.

"Weasley, Longbottom, you're next."

Ron and Neville took their places on the platform, eyeing Vandermine nervously as he counted down. When he said 'Draw,' they both cast he spell and dodged to their left. Harry's eyes widened in amusement as they both got hit and blown off their feet.

Vandermine shook his head as he picked them up. "Predictable, very predictable. You need to learn to move where your opponent would not expect you to go. It was a good attempt by both of you, but remember for next time to do something not random, but irregular. Do that and there is a fair chance that your opponent will misjudge and miss."

The rest of the Club lesson flew by, with pairs of students being called up and attempting to duel with varying degrees of success. An hour later Harry was dragged outside by Hermione, who pulled him into a nearby alcove and pulled the curtain close behind them. Letting out a frustrated sigh, she rounded on him pinning him to the wall with one arm.

"You want to know my problem with Vandermine? Take a look at this!" She slammed a piece of paper into Harry's chest. Harry grunted from the blow and took the paper, eyeing Hermione cautiously.

He read the article slowly, his heart falling lower in his chest with each word. By the time he had finished, his knees felt weak and he sagged against the wall. A feeling of complete revulsion washed over him and he handed the paper back to Hermione.

"Is this real?"

Hermione looked him square in the eye and nodded her head solemnly. "Every word of it. I checked the source three times."

"But there's no way. I mean, why would he-"

"Face it Harry, it was no coincidence that he showed up at the Lestrange witch's house. He must have planned it all."

"But, why? He would not have, after that, would he?"

"Stop looking for excuses, Harry. There is no way he could not have known that she was the one responsible for it. He had planned it with her, all of it."

"But-"

"Stop it Harry!" Hermione glared at him and held the paper up in his face. "Wife murdered, Longbottoms tortured, Aurors killed in arrest attempt. He had planned it all with her. She was the one who told Voldemort where he lived, she was the one responsible for the death of his wife, she was the one who tortured his 'best friends' almost to death. He knew about it all alright. He's the one who gave her the idea. Kill his wife and daughter, eliminate all close contacts, and he gets away scot free with her. There was just a slight hitch in his plan though. He tried to trust a murderer like himself."

Harry closed his eyes, wishing that she would stop making sense. The article was perfectly clear. The afternoon before the attack on his house, Vandermine had gone off on to investigate a 'confidential tip off.' Records show that he never showed up at the site in question, and his house was attacked and burnt down while he was gone. Then the Longbottoms were captured on a routine mission and tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange. Two days later, he was caught in her house, and he killed all of the Aurors in the squad sent to bring in Bellatrix Lestrange, even some of his former students. He even killed the reporter that had been attached to the team.

"Harry," Hermione stepped closer, "he is the most revolting man I have ever heard of. I did some research in the Restricted Section-"

"How'd you get in-"

"Never mind that. The point is I was right about him being a vampire. Bitten by some Transylvanian count while fighting Outrider. And that's not all. Outrider bit him in the same fight. He's a werewolf too. The reports about him don't conflict. They are both right."

Harry stared numbly at her, trying to comprehend what she had said. _A vampire and a werewolf? That's impossible. That would have killed him._ "How is that possible?"

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know, but my guess would be Dark Magic. He was just as accomplished in it as most Death Eaters. Used it often, too. The point stands though. He's a monster."

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but a shadow fell across them. His eyes widened in fear as Vandermine pulled aside the curtain. Vandermine's eyes flicked from Harry to Hermione.

"Aren't you two supposed to be heading back to your dormitory?"

Harry nodded mutely.

"If I'm interrupting anything important," his eyes moved to Hermione's hand, which was still on Harry's shoulder. "I can leave."

Harry's face reddened as he realized what Vandermine meant. Hermione jerked away from Harry and scowled at him. She rushed out of the alcove, ramming her shoulder into Vandermine's arm as she passed. Vandermine watched her leave and shook his head.

"That kid…" He shrugged and helped Harry out of the alcove, grabbing him by his trembling arm and pulling him into the hallway.

"Dumbledore told me that you had a question for me." He looked at Harry expectantly.

Harry hesitated, his conversation with Hermione replaying in his mind. He started to speak, but then closed his mouth again. He needed time to think.

"Nothing, sir."

Vandermine frowned but did not press the point. "Fine. Some other time, maybe." He turned back towards his office. "Go on and get back to your dormitory. It's almost curfew, and Peeves is nearby somewhere."

As Harry started off towards the Gryffindor room, Vandermine looked over his shoulder and called out,

"I wouldn't recommend alcoves by the way. They don't provide enough privacy."

Harry rushed to the Gryffindor room, his cheeks burning red.


	12. The Dreams Begin

_They had never believed him, when he woke. They dragged him away, ignoring his claims of innocence. The tests showed that he had done it, had murdered them all, but he knew that he was innocent. He had not done it. They would not listen to him tough, not to a wanted outlaw, charge with other crimes that he had not done. He was alone in the world._

_Someone entered the cell and he sat up straight. The old, wizened wizard smiled down at him through his glasses._

_"Hello, Vandermine. I am Dumbledore. I have come to help you."_

"Why didn't you show this to me in the library?" Harry shook his head in disgust, turning away from Hermione before she could respond. "What were you thinking?"

"Harry, I'm sorry." Her voice broke and she buried her head in her hands. "I did not want to have to show you that. I thought that-"

"That what?" He rounded on her, eyes burning with anger. "That I did not need to know that my teacher is a psychotic murdering mutant-creature? That I wouldn't care? Hermione, do you know what this means?"

She bit back a sob and nodded. "I was just hoping that I would not be the one to show it to you. Honestly, Harry, I thought that Dumbledore would-"

"Admit that he instated a nutjob? Think realistically, Hermione! Black is loose, within striking distance of Hogwarts and we've got _him_ in charge of the school's security. What if he is the one who let him in? How stupid can you-"

Hermione stood unsteadily. "Harry, stop it. That's not fair." Her eyes were watery with tears.

Harry widened his eyes in mock fear. "Or what? You'll slap me around like you did Ron? You could use the practice."

Even as the words left his mouth, Harry regretted them. Hermione froze, staring at him with the look of a wounded animal. Her bottom lip trembled slightly as the full impact of the words hit her. Harry felt the same sinking feeling he had felt when he had read the article.

"You meant that." Her voice was flat, neither accusing nor hurt. She stared at Harry for a second longer before she started crying. Harry moved in to comfort her, holding his arms out.

"Hermione, I'm sorry. I don't know where that came from."

She brushed him off and ran for the girls stairway, with her face buried in her arms. Harry heard her weeping all the way up until the door slammed shut. He swore and kicked at a nearby seat, bruising his toe in the process. He collapsed into the chair feeling completely drained. Too much had happened today. He had been hit with too much information.

Harry idly picked up his wand from the table and aimed it at a cup. He concentrated hard on it and the cup buckled, falling in on itself as magical energy compressed it into a tiny ball. He shook his head in an effort to clear the images dancing in his mind; images of Vandermine wearing a Death Eater mask, Vandermine laughing at them all from inside the privacy of his office.

The thought that Vandermine might have been a Death Eater unnerved Harry, because he could see a lot of qualities in Vandermine that would have made him a prime soldier for Voldemort. He was arrogant, powerful, well-versed in both Dark and non-Dark magic. If he had been a supporter of Voldemort, the whole world could have been a different place.

None of it made sense though. Harry had spoken with Vandermine, had seen him teaching. He did not come across as the type that could do something as horrible as what the article had accused him of doing. Kill Death Eaters and criminals, definitely. But to murder his own wife and child? To lay a trap for two of his best friends, leaving them to be tortured by a Death Eater? Harry grimaced. It did not seem possible. As odd and strange as Vandermine was, stooping to evils that low seemed like something that only someone of Voldemort's caliber could do. Vandermine felt too good for that.

Harry sighed and stared into the fireplace, trying to find answers in the flames. He lost track of time as he watched them, flickering back and forth and jumping from one log to the next. Gradually, his eyelids closed and his wand slipped from his grasp. He thought about picking it up, then his head dropped onto his chest and he fell asleep.

_Footsteps echoed all around as he descended into the cavern. He walked carefully, placing each foot with care to avoid loose stones and puddles. Somewhere up ahead he heard them. He could smell them, their dank fur reminding him of wet Welcome mats after a heavy rain. His enhanced sense of sight was immensely helpful. He smiled grimly as he saw the faint traces of heat left by their footsteps. They were over an hour old._

_Wand at the ready, he continued forward, entering deeper into the cave, eyes open for any signs of danger. In his left hand he held a low caliber pistol. He hated bringing the thing into here. The darned thing was probably already ruined from the waterfall he had swum under to get here. He thought about leaving it behind, but a nagging voice in his head told him to keep it._

_Suddenly, it happened. Bursts of light came from everywhere. He cast a shield in time to deflect the majority of the spells, but it imploded under the barrage, bursting in a brilliant display of colors. His eyes burned from the sudden light, blinding him. Then he was thrown off his feet as a new spell ripped through the color-field, hitting him square in the chest. His body flew several feet in the air, right into a stalagmite. Pain exploded in his shoulder as the stalagmite pierced his shoulder, ripping his shoulder out of its socket…_

"Harry!"

A hand grabbed Harry's shoulder and he jerked awake. A burning sensation coursed through his upper body. Ron and a crowd of Gryffindors were standing over him. As Harry's eyes focused, Percy pushed his way through the crowd and knelt by his side.

"Harry, are you alright?"

"Where am I?"

Ron held out a hand, which Harry accepted. As he climbed to his feet, Ron patted his back down. "In the common room, where else?"

Harry blinked stupidly and looked down at his right shoulder. His robes were smoldering and blood trickled out from a gaping cut on his back. His arm hung loose at his side, probably dislocated.

"What happened to my arm?" He felt a little numb, too shocked to feel the nerves in his shoulder.

"What happened?" Ron looked at him with an expression of disbelief. "Bloody hell, Harry, you were rolling and screaming all over the bloody place. Woke up half the tower, with that crap. I was running down the stairs when you sat up straight and threw yourself at the fireplace. You got nicked something awful by that poker." He pointed to the fireplace and Harry looked over. A poker was sitting by the fire, its tip glistening with Harry's blood. His mouth dropped in amazement.

"Wow."

"Heck, wow. Listen to this tough guy." Fred and George pushed their way through the crowd, clicking their tongues at him in mock disapproval. "It's about time you learned not to play with fire, Harry. Not good for your health."

Percy scowled at them and motioned for everyone to back off. "Right, then. You're off to Madame Pompfrey's, no buts. That is a serious cut on your shoulder, not to mention you definitely dislocated it. What in the blazes possessed you to make you do that, Harry?"

Harry started to shrug, but stopped when a blazing pain shot through his shoulder. He groaned and clutched at his shoulder. Percy winced and waved Ron over.

"Here, Ron come help me. You help him, I'll make sure you don't get in trouble."

Ron nodded and put his arm around Harry's uninjured shoulder. Harry accepted the arm and started off towards the hospital wing, leaning on Ron for support. Percy went on ahead of them, leaving Ron and Harry alone in the hallway. They trudged along in silence, neither speaking for quite some time. Then, to Harry's surprise, Ron laughed.

"What's so funny?" Harry gave Ron a strange look, which Ron ignored.

"Well, it's not that funny," Ron started, "but just a couple days ago we were in the same position, except I was the one getting dragged along."

"Oh, yeah." Harry chuckled at the thought. It really had only been two days ago, when Ron had been sent to the hospital.

"Yeah," Ron stopped laughing suddenly and his face grew hard. "that was because that little prude got all-"

"Ron." Harry stopped walking, glaring at him. Ron continued walking for a few steps, jerking Harry's injured shoulder painfully before he realized that Harry had stopped.

"What?" Ron gave him a it's-not-my-fault look. "I'm not the one who went flipping mental and started beating on her. Or are you siding with her on this one? 'Ron deserved that, because Hermione's hot.'"

Harry's cheeks flushed and he shot Ron a nasty look. "Shut up, Ron. Give her a break, alright."

"Why should I? What has she done to deserve a break?" Ron pulled Harry around to face him and pointed to his face. Faint lines still showed on his face from where Hermione had scratched him. "Look at what she did!"

Harry bit back a retort and broke off from Ron's grip. "You don't understand, Ron. I…" he exhaled sharply, trying to think of how to tell him the truth. "There's no easy way to tell you this."

"Tell me what? That you're ditching me for her! That she's more important than me?" Ron snarled and turned back towards the dormitory. "Fine, do that."

"Ron, it's not like that. I'm not 'ditching' anyone. You two are my best friends."

"Well, it's about time you picked one, Harry. I'll see you later. I need some sleep before tomorrow's Potions class."

Harry reached out and grabbed Ron's robe with his injured hand, biting his tongue to prevent a scream escaping his lips. "Darn it, Ron. Wait a minute."

Ron turned reluctantly, his eyes staring blankly at the ground. "What?"

"I need to tell you about what Hermione showed me. Yesterday at lunch. It's about Vandermine."

Ron's eyes flashed angrily. "What about him? Fed you more of her trash, has she? Is that why you've taken her side? Or is it because you're trying to go out with her?"

Harry gaped at Ron in shock, feeling betrayed. "What? What could possibly make you think-"

"Oh, yeah." Ron returned his look, cheeks bright red. "Believe it or not, I can actually do that on my own. I don't need your help, or _her_ help. I heard how you went to sit with her at lunch, how Kathryn Stringer left you two at the library, how Vandermine caught you two in the alcove outside his classroom. I know how to put two and two together, Harry."

Harry laughed bitterly at Ron's ignorance. "Oh, yeah? And I bet you were also smart enough to figure out that that makes three, huh. You're absolutely wrong. If you had any brains at all in there, you'd see that we weren't doing anything."

"Stupid, am I?" Ron spat at Harry's feet. "How stupid is this?" he knocked Harry's arm back. "I'm through. I don't need the precious little 'Boy-Who-Lived' to get through school. Find yourself another idiot to boss around. This one's had enough."

He stormed down the hall back in the direction of the dormitory. Harry watched him leave, stunned.

Madame Pompfrey hurried him into a bed, muttering quietly about the recklessness of the younger students. Harry obeyed her quietly, leaning over onto his side as she applied a magical salve onto the wound.

"Well," she said as the salve attached itself to the edges of the wound. "At least you didn't waste any time getting here. If you had been here minutes later, it would have been hard indeed to heal fully."

Harry nodded numbly, his eyes focused on the stand by his bed. He felt empty, like something had just been ripped out of him. Ron and Hermione, both of them, were gone. He had just lost his two best friends in one evening. What on earth had he done to deserve this?

His eyes stung with tears as Madame Pompfrey left the room. A wave of helplessness washed over him as he stared at the stand. He bit his lip to keep a sob from escaping. It was still sinking in what had just happened in the hallway. Ron couldn't leave him. They had the same classes, had stayed in the same house, shared the same jokes. If he left, it would be like he had had one half of his soul ripped out.

And Hermione, he would fail school if it weren't for her. She helped him with his work, she always found some way to cheer them up. He could not imagine what life would be like without hanging out with her. Now, he had probably split their friendship too, all because he was too pigheaded to control his emotions. Why did he have to lose control on her? Why couldn't it have been on someone else?

Tears flowed unchecked down his cheeks as he laid in the bed. He shuddered at the prospect of facing school without them. It was like facing a dementor without a wand. He stare at the stand for an hour before falling asleep. Thankfully, he did not have anymore dreams that night.

When Harry woke, he looked around anxiously, hoping that he had just woken from a bad dream. To his dismay, it wasn't a dream. He was lying on a bed in the hospital wing, his shoulder wrapped in bandages. He groaned aloud and dropped his head on the pillow.

"Mr. Potter you've got a visitor."

Harry turned his head towards the door, hoping to see Ron or, even better, Hermione. He could imagine he entering, slowly and with a few tears, apologizing for having wronged him, hoping that he would forgive her, him reaching up to hug her as she burst into tears, professing her love for him…

Neville peaked his head around the door. "Hello Harry."

"Oh," Harry let out a sigh and nodded. _So much for that_. "Hello, Neville."

Neville walked into the room carrying a badly wrapped box. He set it down on the stand by Harry's bed. Harry guessed it was candy, judging by the smell.

"I heard that you were in the hospital wing, so I thought I'd give you a visit, see how you were doing."

Harry grinned slightly and held out his hand. Neville grabbed it and shook it firmly. "It's good to see that you're doing alright. That was a nasty stab you got."

Neville grimaced as he looked at the bandage on Harry's shoulder. "Hurts, doesn't it."

He nodded and Neville swallowed hard. Seeing that Neville was affected by the wound, Harry looked for a change in topic. He pointed quickly at the box.

"What's in the box?"

"Oh, yeah, that." Neville handed it to Harry, taking care to not drop it. "It's a load of stuff from the Hogsmeade trip last week. I'd been saving it for later, but I figured you could use some. It's okay, they aren't getting old or anything. Designed to stay fresh for over a year, they are."

"Really? Thanks, Neville." Harry opened the package carefully, examining the contents one at a time. Chocolate Frogs, Every Flavor Beans, Licorice Snaps, there was enough candy in there to last Harry a few days. "Wow, thanks a lot, Neville." He pulled out two Chocolate Frogs, offering one to Neville.

"Want one?"

Neville grinned and accepted it. Opening the little box, he looked around the room, as if noticing the lack of people for the first time.

"Have Ron or Hermione stopped by yet? I figured that they'd have come by now, but it doesn't look like it."

Harry's stomach lurched and he faced away from Neville, hiding his face as it turned red. "We've, um, had a little disagreement. I haven't heard from either yet."

"Really?" Neville raised an eyebrow in surprise, making Harry feel even worse. "Sorry about that. I didn't know. They have been acting a little odd though. I figured it would have blown on by now, but they were still acting at it at lunch."

"Lunch?" It was Harry's turn to look surprised. "What time is it?"

"Roughly half past four." Neville shrugged. "I came straight from the last class to get here."

"So I've been out for…"

"About sixteen and a half hours."

Harry placed his head back on the pillow and frowned. For all that sleep, he did not feel the least bit rested.

"Harry, look!" Neville stood up, knocking his chair over as he gaped at the card he had pulled from the Chocolate Frog box. "I got Vandermine!"

Harry shot back up, wincing as a spasm of pain rocked his shoulder.

"You got who?"

"Vandermine!" Neville held out the card so Harry could see it. His eyes were shining and he laughed. "He's one of the rarest, he is. There were barely any made of him. Less than fifty!"

Harry took the card and looked at it, flipping it over in the palm of his hand. The card showed a much brighter, more handsome Vandermine. He was scarred, the scars looked fresh, but his face looked much younger than now. The card read:

_Lucas Vandermine, Auror, Order of Merlin First-Class._

_A young Auror, renowned for defeating the renegade wizard-werewolf Johannes Outrider, subduing a giant insurrection in Scotland, and capturing an ancient Hungarian Horntail dragon that had escaped its colony in Romania. He teaches at the Ministry of Magic's Auror Academy._

"How old is this card?" Harry flipped it back to the portrait. Vandermine smiled at him and laughed roguishly.

"About ten years old, but the Frog is new. Old cards are recycled back into new Frog-boxes every year or two."

"Yeah," Harry looked back at the mini-biography. "Order of Merlin First-Class, huh. Didn't know about that one. How'd he get it?"

Neville leaned forward excitedly, his eyes glittering with joy. "He got it for defeating Outrider. My mum and dad presented it to him. They went with him, to fight Outrider. They were captured by him and his band of were-creatures, but Vandermine saved them. Together they fought Outrider and brought him down."

"You mom and dad went with him?"

"Yeah. Back then, it was still early in his career, and naturally, the Ministry would not entrust such an important mission to one lone Auror-"

"Important? Just how bad was Outrider?"

Neville's face darkened for a moment as he thought of how to answer Harry's question.

"He was bad. Almost as bad as You-Know-Who. He was old, at least three hundred years old. Rumor has it he had been a major wizard in Germany, until he was ambushed and bitten by a werewolf. The wizarding community cast him out, even though he had been a great leader. He grew bitter, I think, and wanted revenge for being kicked out. About ten years after he was exiled, the people that had presided over his exile started dying. Some by curses, some killed by his own hands, none survived more than two years after the first one died. A great manhunt was launched in an effort to find him and bring him to justice, but he escaped and flew east, to Russia. No one heard about him for a long time. Then, about fifty years ago, he came back."

"How did he survive that long?"

"He had used Dark Magic to survive. Leeched life out of people, I think." Harry shuddered at the thought. "Anyway, he had truly become a monster. He had been infected for so long that he had been permanently transformed into a werewolf, except he retained his knowledge and skills. A werewolf with a wand, a very bad combination." Harry nodded mutely, thinking about Vandermine. He was a werewolf. "He used Dark Magic to corrupt the animals around him, turning them into hideous beasts. He launched a personal war on the wizarding community. Wizards all across Germany began disappearing, murdered. It was only a matter of time before the Ministry was forced to act."

"And they sent Vandermine?"

"Vandermine volunteered. Most Aurors were afraid to go after him. They had heard that Outrider was promising the Cru… he was going to do horrible things to any Ministry officials that he caught. Vandermine was the only one to step up for the job."

"Then how did your parents go?'

"They had been off on a mission, but when they returned they volunteered to accompany him. They were bests pals, you know. They cared for him like he was a brother."

A single tear slid down Neville's cheek and his voice trailed off. He stared vacantly at the wall behind Harry's head and Harry lowered his eyes, examining the card in his hand. Vandermine was still smiling at him, but Harry noticed a touch of sadness in his eyes that he had not seen before. Suddenly Vandermine's smile looked plastic, like he was being forced to pose, not like he enjoyed it.

Neville shook his head and blinked hard. "Sorry about that. Got lost in a memory. Where was I?"

"Your parents treated Vandermine like a brother."

"Oh, right. Well, the Ministry gave them the mission, and they set out for Germany without delay. They scoured the countryside for a month, following leads and hunting down suspected murders, but they could not find him. He found them though. He set a trap for them, attacked them while they slept. Caught my mom and dad before they could mount an effective defense, but Vandermine fought his way out of the trap. Killed a lot of the were-creatures too. He followed them back to Outrider's hideout and attacked him there. He freed my parents before Outrider could get to them and they got away. Before they left though, Vandermine challenged Outrider to meet him in a duel. Outrider took the challenge."

"Vandermine challenged him to a duel?"

"Crazy, isn't it. They fought in a hidden forest near the French-German border. My parents put their memories of he fight into a Pensieve that my Gran showed me. If you ever want to see it, I could show it to you some summer, that is, if you want to come over."

"That'd be great."

"Really?" Neville's face flushed a little. "You'd really want to?"

"Sure."

"Cool. Oh, yeah, back to the story. Their duel lasted for a full day. They fought non-stop, not even pausing to eat or rest. Just as it got dark though, a crowd of vampires showed up. It turned out they were dueling on some ground that was sacred to the vampires or something like that. The vampires were all mad and they attacked them both. So, suddenly my mom and dad, who had been Vandermine's seconds, found themselves watching a three-way battle between two of the world's most powerful wizards and a flock of thirty vampires."

"Didn't they fight too?"

"They couldn't. Vandermine turned them invisible and froze them as soon as the vampires arrived. They could do nothing but watch as he took them all on. Him and Outrider killed the vampires, all of them. Somewhere in the fight though, a vampire got a piece of Vandermine. He was bleeding pretty bad by the time he and Outrider were back facing each other alone. Outrider pounced on him and bit him in the neck, right on top of the vampire wound. He nearly ripped his throat out, but my mom and dad broke free of their enchantment and stunned him. Vandermine finished him off before he collapsed from blood loss. My parents took him back to St. Mungos, where he recovered quickly. He made them promise to not tell anyone about the bites though. They never told a soul."

Harry frowned, thinking about what Neville had told him. "So, you know about his… condition?"

Neville shrugged. "Yeah, I know about it. Kind of creepy, the way that the two wounds counteracted each other."

"The wounds what?" Harry eyed him quizzically, hardly believing what Neville was telling him.

"He told me about it, the day that he gave me the necklace. Showed me what he can do now. Harry, it is amazing." He lowered his voice as if he was afraid of eavesdroppers. "He can change into a werewolf or bat at a whim ! Something in Outrider's bite changed the wounds. He can control his transformations, Harry. He's barely affected by the full moon and he doesn't need blood. I've never heard of anything like it. Outrider was so corrupted that his infection reacted like a catalyst with the vampire bite. He's gotten all the good stuff, like increased senses, resistance to some types of magic, you name it. Anything that makes a werewolf or vampire tougher, he's got it."

"Are you telling me that you knew about all that, but you never told me or Hermione or anyone?"

"Yeah, none of you ever brought it up." He frowned and looked at Harry oddly. "Why are you so interested?"

"I, well, um, it doesn't matter," Harry stammered, thinking of an excuse. "Just curious, I suppose."

"I hope you aren't believing any of the stuff that Hermione's found in the Daily Prophet. They love trashing him, because he's a 'weirdy.'"

"Yeah…"

"Well, I've got to go Harry." Neville looked at the clock on the wall and stood up. Offering Harry his hand, he bowed his head. "Thanks for the letting me talk with you."

"Anytime, Neville, anytime."

As Neville headed for the door Harry could not resist calling out one last question.

"Neville, do you trust him?"

Neville turned slowly. "Who, Vandermine? Of course I trust him. I'd trust him with my life, just like my parents did."

"I was afraid you'd say that," Harry muttered as the door shut, leaving Harry alone in the hospital room.


	13. Vandermine's Secret

_"Help me? No one can help me now, Albus. Look at me." He leaned back against the cell, resting his head on the warm metal bars. It felt so good, the warmth. He barely remembered what it had felt like. The dementors made sure that warmth was the first thing to go when they guarded him. Cold made him shift into his lupine from in an effort to stay heated. And from there, the dementors had all the food they needed._

_"There is always hope, Lucas."_

_"Hope!" He laughed mirthlessly. "Hope is for fools, Albus, fools and dreamers. I have nothing left, no family, no friends, you are the first human I've seen in weeks."_

_"Well, sometimes dreamers and fools succeed. Sometimes fools' hopes can come true."_

_"What?" He sat straight up in his cell, staring at Dumbledore with rapt attention. "What happened?"_

_"You should know, Lucas. I know what your prayers have been these long nights. They have been answered."_

_His eyes widened in surprise. "How do you know what I've been… What are you talking about?"_

_Dumbledore smiled kindly and a feeling of calm passed over him. "She's not dead, Vandermine. She's alive and well, not harmed in the least."_

_ "Does she know about… all this?" He swallowed nervously, hardly believing what he was hearing. "Does he know what happened?"_

_"She has no memory of what happened, I assure you."_

_"Will she ever know? Are you going to tell her?"_

_" Would you prefer I told her?" He glanced around at the cell. "It might be a bit of a shock. She did not know anything, after all, about magic before that night."_

_His lip trembled, torn between the desire to tell her, and the shame of what had happened. "No," he said finally. A pair of tears traced their way down his cheeks. "I do not want her to know about this. I will tell her, if I ever get out."_

_"When you get out." He corrected. "I doubt that the evidence against you will stand at the trial."_

_"No, Dumbledore, if I get out." He dropped his head and ran his scarred fingers through his dirty hair. "I know how this works, don't bother lying to me. I've been sending criminals here for years. If it's bad enough to get you in here before the trial, you won't ever be coming out."_

_"Still, there is hope. I am sure that I can convince the judges that you are innocent as you claim."_

_"That's impossible and you know it. You saw my memories. I did all of it, every last spell."_

_"Those memories were blurry, Lucas. It could easily have been a Memory Charm planted while you were unconscious. You know that as well as I do."_

_"But why can I still feel it, Albus. I can feel the surge of power, I can see them dying," his voice broke and he buried his head in his hands, tears dripping onto the floor. "I can feel her touch."_

_Dumbledore watched him dissapointedly. "If you are so quick to condemn yourself then, goodbye, Lucas. I will see you at your trial. I pray for the best."_

_He turned to the cell-door, his long beard flowing behind him like a cloak. As Dumbledore stepped over the threshold, he stood, calling out uncertainly._

_"Albus, can I ask a favor of you?"_

_Dumbledore paused, not looking back. "Anything, Lucas."_

_"Promise me that you will never tell her. Promise me."_

_"I promise, Lucas. She will never hear it from anyone but yourself."_

_The door slid shut with a whisper and he found himself alone again. The walls began to chill as icy cold tendrils crept in through the crack under the door way. He almost thought he heard the dementors as they glided back to their stations. Despair fell on him like a thick blanket, but he felt a warmth seeping through his veins, chasing away the hopelessness. _She was alive!

Harry was dismissed from the hospital wing the next day. His arm was stuck in a sling, but otherwise it felt good as new. He could not remember the pain that had been searing through his body the night before. If only the rest of his life healed that easily.

Ron and Hermione pointedly avoided him, acting as though he did not exist. During their classes he could get nothing out of them, not even a grunt from Ron. Their stony silence was unbearable.

Harry sat chose a seat at lunch far away from Ron and Hermione, where he tried to think of some way to heal the rift that had appeared between them. He was so deep in though that he did not hear Neville grab the seat beside him.

"How's your arm?" he asked, looking from Harry's sling to his face, which was contorted with concentration. "You look like you're in an awful amount of pain."

Letting out a sigh, he put down his fork and turned to face Neville. "It's not my shoulder. It's Ron and Hermione."

"I thought that. 'Noticed that you weren't looking too friendly during class and breakfast."

"Thanks for noticing." Neville cringed at the harshness in Harry's voice. He backed up out of the seat and started to stand up.

"Yeah, well, see you later."

"Neville wait!" Harry forced himself to take a deep breath. "I'm sorry, it's just that, with Ron and Hermione gone, I'm a little on edge right now. I didn't mean that. Will you sit back down please?"

Neville nodded and sat down again.

"Thanks. I'm sorry about that."

"It's alright. I'd be upset two if I lost two of my friends." He patted Harry on the back and looked down at the plate before him. "How'd it happen?"

"How'd what happen?"

"You, Ron and Hermione splitting up. That was the fastest breakup I've ever seen."

"It's… complicated."

"Well, we don't really have anywhere to go." He grinned slightly, hoping to lighten Harry's mood. When Harry did not return the grin, he shrugged. "Thought it was worth a shot."

Harry shook his head noncommittally. _Should I really tell him? I know that I can trust him, but is it worth the risk? What if he doesn't believe me?_

"It was about Vandermine." He admitted, praying that Neville would take it well.

"That's a shock. Ron and Hermione's views are polar opposites. I'm surprised that they split over it. What made them do it?"

"Do you remember that night that Hermione slapped Ron?"

"Yeah, I was there. I was wondering about that. What did Ron say?"

Harry took a deep breath, wondering whether or not to tell him the whole story. At the moment, Neville was the closest friend he had, because he was actually sitting with him. Everyone else was backing away, and Harry knew why. They all knew about him exploding on Hermione, although they did not know why, and Ron had made sure to tell them what a 'bloody idiot' he was.

"Let me start from the beginning. That afternoon I had planned on going to ask Vandermine how Hermione had made it into the Dueling Club, because she was not at the tryouts."

"Oh, yeah. She could not make it because of homework, but Dumbledore convinced Vandermine to let her in anyway. He did not need much persuading. He was impressed with her skills and agreed to let her in as soon as Dumbledore stopped talking."

"How did you know that?" Harry looked at him incredulously.

"Why, she told me, of course. I asked her about it after breakfast. She was pretty open about it."

Harry let out a little laugh. "Why didn't I think of that. I was worried about upsetting her, so I didn't ask. She's been acting strange this year, wouldn't you agree?"

"A little odd, yeah. But, of course, she is amazingly gifted. I've never seen someone as smart as she is."

"You and me both," Harry muttered under his breath.

"So, how'd the visit to his office go?"

"Oh, it um, was kind of awkward. He wasn't there when I arrived, so I just let myself in and looked around. I found a picture of his wife on his desk, and he… showed up and was angry about it. Nearly threw me out of the room."

"He can get touchy at times."

"Yeah. Anyway, I went back to the common room and told Ron and Hermione what happened. When Ron heard that the picture was of his wife, asked how hot she was."

"No way! Did he really do that?"

"Yes, he did."

"That brute." Neville made to rise out of his seat, looking around for Ron, eyes blazing. Harry grabbed his arm and pulled him back into the seat.

"Easy, Neville. I think he learned his lesson already. There's no point in getting mad about it now."

"Still," Neville shuddered angrily. "That's a nasty thing to do. Do you know how she died?"

"Burned alive." Harry winced as he said it, trying hard not to imagine what being burnt alive would feel like. Just mentioning it made his skin crawl.

"Than you know how horrible it is to make light of it."

"Yes."

"He should be glad that it was Hermione that got to him, not be." He searched the room for Ron. Spotting him at the far end of the table, he raised a fist in his direction. "I would have beaten the snot out of that-"

"Calm down, Neville. It's all in the past."

"Huh? Yeah, whatever." He exhaled loudly and shook his head. "I'm sorry, go on."

"Well, that was Ron and Hermione. While Ron was in the hospital wing recovering, Hermione showed me some newspaper clippings about Vandermine."

"Oh, those. I think he was justified in killing the Death Eaters. Those scum deserved to die for what they did."

"Yeah, well, did she show you this one?" Harry passed the article with the picture of Vandermine and Bellatrix Lestrange on it to Neville, praying that he would not take it too hard.

Neville's eyes opened wide as he read the article. His hands started shaking as he neared the bottom. When he looked up, Harry saw tears brimming in his eyes. _He had taken it hard_.

"Now, Neville, think before you say anything-"

"Where did you find this?" His voice sounded hoarse when he spoke.

Harry swallowed hard and shrugged. "I don't know. Hermione found it."

"It's a bunch of lies." Neville's face was turning red. Harry backed away a few inches in his seat nervously.

"It can't be, Neville. She said she checked it three times."

"That's impossible, he told me that they were best friends."

"I'm sorry, Neville, but Hermione could not find anything to prove this wrong. It's authentic."

"No. It's not true!" Neville roared. He punched Harry in the chest, knocking him off the seat. Before Harry could respond, he had jumped out of his seat and was tearing down the aisle towards the doors. Harry scrambled to his feet and took off after him. Students from all corners of the Great Hall stopped what they were doing to watch them racing across the Hall.

"Neville, wait."

Neville pushed through the doors and ran for the staircase. Harry hurried after him, bumping aside the students in his way, mumbling apologies as he struggled to keep sight of Neville's fleeing form. Neville took the stairs two at a time, moving towards what Harry knew to be Vandermine's office. His stomach churned inside him as he followed, trying to catch him before he opened the door.

"Neville, stop!"

The stairway between the fourth and fifth floor shifted as Harry reached it. Putting in a burst of speed explainable only by sheer adrenaline, he hurtled forward and leapt across the widening gap, landing in a roll that threw him into the wall. He stumbled to his feet in a daze and kept going, ignoring the disturbed protests of the paintings' inhabitants whose lunch he had interrupted. He ran pell-mell after Neville, not daring to sow down to catch his breath. Despite his best efforts though, Neville reached the room a few steps ahead of him. Harry reached the door as it slammed shut, running headlong into the hard wooden frame. He tumbled backwards onto the carpet, muttering curses under his breath and clutching his aching forehead.

He pulled himself onto his feet and approached the door slowly. He put his hand around the doorknob and, breathing deeply, pushed it open. Neville stood before Vandermine's desk, holding out the newspaper clippings. Tears were streaming down his face as he pointed to it wordlessly. Vandermine sat in his chair, with McDouglass at his side, both looking stern and frowning.

"Is it true?" Neville demanded, crying unashamedly before them. "This says you were responsible for the attack on my parents. This says you did it!" He sobbed hard and buried his head in his arms. Vandermine swallowed and watched Neville unflinchingly. It was a long time before he spoke.

"The first thing that I need you to understand is that I never intended for that to happen."

"So you did do it!" Neville raised his head from his arms, glaring at Vandermine. "You told me that they were your friends! You gave me my mom's necklace! You said you loved them!" He launched himself barehanded at Vandermine, half-blinded by tears. "You liar!"

Vandermine pushed off from his desk and caught Neville in midair, spinning him around and putting him in a headlock. Vandermine held him still, not putting any pressure on him but not giving him enough room to move his head. Neville sobbed uncontrollably, struggling to break free of his grip.

"They trusted you!" he shouted.

"Neville, listen to me!" Vandermine tried to keep his voice calm, but Harry could hear that it was tense. "It didn't happen that way."

"You gave them up! You betrayed them, your best friends!"

"Neville!" Neville bit at his hand causing Vandermine to let him go. Neville turned to face Vandermine, fumbling for his wand, but Vandermine disarmed him with a flick of his wand. Vandermine waved his wand again and Neville was pushed back into a seat, where he sat frozen, eyes wide in terror. Harry could stand it no longer. He rushed into the room, drawing his wand and aiming it at Vandermine, who hadn't noticed him enter.

"Expellia-"

A streak of light blinded Harry and he was thrown backwards into a bookcase. As he slid to the floor, a pair of strong arms grabbed him gently and carried him over to Vandermine's desk, where he was dumped unceremoniously into the chair beside Neville, who looked over at him with a look of sheer terror. His face was white and sweat was pouring down his face.

Vandermine looked from Harry to Neville and sighed. He looked over at McDouglass and nodded.

"You can leave, Judder." Judder saluted and hurried out the door, pausing only to give Neville a reassuring pat on the back as he left. Once the door had shut, Vandermine looked back at the boys, a pained expression on his face. He pointed to the paper and faced Harry. "Did you show him this?"

Harry nodded mutely. He did not know what else to do. Seeing his answer, Vandermine rested his face on his fist, eyeing him carefully.

"How many others know about this?"

"Just… just Hermione."

Vandermine huffed and nodded knowingly. "That figures. She's got a knack for reading stuff that she shouldn't, _just like her mother_." He whispered the last part so quietly that Harry barely heard him. Harry looked at him curiously but Vandermine brushed over it.

"This paper said that I was the one responsible for the torture of Neville's parents, among other things." He looked squarely at Harry, and Harry noticed a hint of resentment in his eyes. "I would give almost anything to say that it is a lie, but it's not."

Harry heard Neville moan beside him. A chill crawled up his spine as Vandermine rose, walking around the desk and taking a seat on the edge of it, within striking distance.

"This is something that I have told few people; less than ten." He took a deep breath to clear his mind.

"It is my fault that your parents were captured," He faced Neville and lowered his head. "But it was because I neglected my duty, not because I gave them over to the _her_." His eyes flicked briefly over to Harry as he spoke.

"It happened two weeks after my wife was murdered." His voice cracked as he spoke and Harry thought he saw his eyes water, but Vandermine wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, catching them before they left his eyes. "I was still grieving her death and it was my turn to go out on a patrol. Frank and Alice… took my place… they didn't tell me until they were heading out. _I thanked them_, because they were giving me more time to mourn my wife." A strangled sob escaped his lips and his hand flew to his throat. He sat quietly for a moment. "I found out the next day that they had been caught in a trap and tortured."

His chest heaved a little and he cleared his throat. Harry felt sorry for him. It seemed that he was not the only one who knew what great loss was like.

"I was overcome after that. I did not know what to do… so I ran. I ran to the last person that I was close to."

"Bellatrix Lestrange?" Harry sneered despite the pity he felt for Vandermine.

"I made a mistake." Vandermine shook his head, staring at his boots. "I knew Bellatrix before Voldemort came to power." Neville moaned again at the mention of _his_ name. "She and I had been friends." He scoffed as he said this. His eyes were blurry from the tears that were gathering there. "I knew that she believed in the whole 'pureblood' idea, but I convinced myself that she never could have actually joined him. I thought I knew her well enough. Her husband was, I knew that. I was the one that killed him in a raid."

"But you thought that she wasn't involved. That doesn't sound very convincing."

"I know, and I still can't see how she deceived me. She promised me, during and after _his_ fall, that she had never joined him. I was foolish enough to believe her."

"Then what happened when the Aurors arrived at her house?"

"That…" Vandermine shook his head. "I don't know. I know that they announced that she was the one that had tortured Frank and Alice, that she was the one who had," his voice broke and the tears began to flow freely down his face. "She was the one who sent _him_ after my wife!" he raised his hands to his face and buried his head in them. "The next thing I knew I woke up in her house. It was deserted, but all of the Aurors were dead." He looked up at Harry and Neville, his eyes meeting theirs pleadingly.

"Three of them had been my students. The reporter wasn't even twenty yet. I know that I didn't kill them, but my wand had fired the spells. I didn't know what to do. I stayed there, waiting for the Ministry team to arrive and pick them up. They took me to Azkaban for it, threw me into solitary in the lowest levels, where things worse than dementors guarded us."

He broke off from his story and moved closer to Neville. Neville watched him with wide eyes as Vandermine knelt before him, taking Neville's hand in his own.

"If I could change time, I would gladly go back and take that patrol. Not a day goes by that I'm not tormented by what she did, what I did. I know that I don't deserve it, but I ask your forgiveness, Neville. I am sorry for what happened to your parents. Will you forgive me?"

Neville stared at him, lost for words. Vandermine locked eyes with him, trembling slightly. Slowly, almost imperceptively, Neville shook his head. Vandermine lowered his head and backed off, staring sorrowfully at the floor.

"I understand. I deserve to rot in hell for that. You may go."

Harry rose from his seat, feeling numb. His hands shook as he picked up his wand which was still lying on the floor from when he had been disarmed. He moved mechanically towards the door.

"Is all that true?" Neville's voice broke the stillness that had settled on the room. Harry turned to look back. Neville was standing, facing Vandermine, who was sitting in his chair with his face in his hand.

"Every word of it." Vandermine nodded as he spoke, as if it would increase the sincerity of his words. "I swear it on my wife's grave."

Neville walked towards him slowly, raising his arm and placing it hesitantly on Vandermine's shoulder. He paused, unsure of what to say.

"I… my parents would have wanted me to forgive you. They would have understood."

Vandermine looked up at Neville, fresh tears gleaming on his face as he laughed sorrowfully.

"They were great people, Frank and Alice. I wish they were still here with us."

"I do too." Neville's voice was quiet, subdued as he spoke. "And I forgive you."

Vandermine rose from his seat, a half-smile appearing on his face as he faced Neville.

"Thank you, Neville." He held out an arm and hugged Neville around his shoulder."

"Any…anytime." Neville hugged him back awkwardly, and Harry took a step backwards out of their sight.

"Will you still accept me as your godfather?" Harry froze, his eyes opening wide.

"Yes, Vandermine. My parents trusted you, and so do I. Thank you for telling me the truth."

Harry turned and left the room before he could hear more. Best to leave them alone.


	14. Catching Wands

_They called him a liar. They showed the evidence, brought out a Pensieve and extracted the memories, cast Priori Incantem on his wand. Seven killing spells, and one Cruciatus. If the killing spells hadn't convinced the jury, the torture one did._

_"Life in Azkaban!" They cried. "Send him to the pits."_

_Dumbledore tried, to his credit, to pursue the possibility of a Memory Charm. They ignored him. Six Aurors and a reporter were dead and they wanted blood. Or, they wanted someone to get 'the Kiss.'_

_He persuaded them to not use the Dementor's Kiss on him, not much of a relief, but it was a start. They dismissed him quickly, eager to get to the next case. He passed the next defendant in the hall. It was _her._ She grinned at him, licking her lips suggestively as she eyed him from head to toe._

_"Why the long face, Lucas? Did you lose something?"_

_It had taken five wizards to hold him down long enough for her to pass. She hurried past him, dodging his wild fists and she disappeared into the courtroom, walking with an arrogant stride befitting her Black heritage. The pain of seeing her again nearly broke him. He fell to the floor sobbing, whimpering in agony as the memories flooded his mind. He could not believe what he had done with her. She had been so honest, so sympathetic, so real._

_No, never again. He had to get out, to get away. He needed to find a place where the pain that lingered in his heart could not find him. He needed a new life, something devoid of this cursed magic, away from the ruined bodies and lives that were littered behind him, testaments to his violent nature. He could not go back to Azkaban, but he could not go to go find her either. It was best that she would not remember him, remember what he had done._

_The Aurors guarding him helped him to his feet, not imagining in the least what he was thinking. They lowered their guards just long enough for him to see an escape route. He stumbled forward, dragging two of the guards with him. They tripped over their robes and he struck. His fists caught them both under their chins, snapping their heads back and leaving them unconscious on the floor._

_The guards behind him gaped in shock at their fallen comrades. By the time they realized what was happening, it was too late. He fell on them with a savage fury that belied his human appearance. They crumpled under the crushing blows that he threw at them, falling one by one until they were all on the ground either screaming in pain or mercifully unconscious._

_He searched them carefully, checking each one until he found his target. His wand; thirteen inches, rosewood finish, with the spike from a Chimera as its core. He picked the wand up slowly, remembering how much he had accomplished with it in the past._

_The Aurors' eyes widened in fear as he stood, eyeing him like rats cornered by a massive tabby. He returned their looks, his eyes full of sorrow and pain. He raised his wand in a non-threatening manner and pointed to the nearest one._

_"You, Shallow, tell them not to follow me, or I will kill them. All I want is to be left alone, to get away from all this. This… this magic." He snarled the final words and his face contorted in a grimace that made even the hardest Auror there flinch._

_"You won't get away with this." One of the Aurors started to rise, pulling her wand from her belt. She raised it warningly. He watched impassively as she fired off a flare. The sound echoed in the empty hallway, its ring reminding him of the doorbell that he used to press every time he came home. "They'll send us after you."_

_"Then I will have to kill you until they stop sending you." His wand twitched slightly and she collapsed unconscious as a red beam of light caught her in the chest. A shudder passed up his spine as he watched her fall. It was so easy, so much power in the tip of his fingers. That is why he needed to get away. That some could own this power, could channel it to destructive ends… like he had._

_He turned his back on them and walked away, through the small bronze door at the end of the hall, through the panicked crowd of wizards as they rushed to get out of his way, past the foolish young secretary who tried to Stun him as he moved around the welcome desk. He spat contemptuously as the spell missed by several feet, shattering a chair far to his right. The secretary cowered behind his chair, whimpering in fear as he passed within striking distance._

_He ignored them all. They were nothing to him. They did not know what he had gone through, the pain that threatened to rip his heart out. He walked until he reached a Floo Station._

_"Vandermine."_

_He stopped but did not turn. Instead he drew his wand in anticipation and growled. If Dumbledore wanted a fight, he was ready to give him one._

Over the next few days Harry began to spend more and more time with Neville. They started sitting together in classes, helping each other with homework and exchanging jokes and stories. It helped Harry unwind from the stress that assailed him from all sides. It also helped him forget that Ron and Hermione were not talking to him anymore.

Neville was a great kid, Harry realized as he learned more about him. He had all kinds of funny stories from his family, Harry found his stories about his Gran and her oddities especially hilarious. From what Harry had seen of his Gran, which was not much, she was quite the character. Strong and impulsive, she never took 'no' for an answer and when she wanted something, she usually got it, even if she had to yank a few arms out of socket in the process.

Neville's stories always made Harry laugh, whether they were really funny or not. It did not matter to Harry, as long as it helped calm his mind. Life at Hogwarts was getting harder and scarier as the year went on. When the Pink Lady's portrait had been attacked and Sir Cadogan had taken her place, Harry and Ron had made sure to stay together whenever they left or entered the common room, so Neville would not forget the passwords, which seemingly changed hourly, depending on the knight's whims.

Harry grew so at ease around Neville that he gradually became less and less aware of Ron and Hermione. He paid no attention to Ron's angry glares and muttered insults as they passed in the hall. As long as Ron kept quiet at night Harry was fine. It worked out that, since Neville and Harry usually stayed up late with their homework, Ron was almost always asleep by the time Harry crept up into the room to go to bed.

Hermione was a different story. Every time they passed each other in the hall, Harry could not help but notice the look she gave him. It was full of pain and regret, as if she was sorry that he had exploded on her, as if it was her fault. It made Harry's stomach turn cartwheels every time he felt her eyes on him. He could not talk to her though. When he tried to return her gaze she would quickly avert her eyes and start up a conversation with anyone passing by. She always had something keeping her too busy to talk when he approached her.

Neville was polite enough to not mention Ron and Hermione around Harry. Harry knew that he was trying to mediate things behind his back though. Harry caught him with Ron once or twice, and they had stopped arguing as soon as they saw him. Ron would brush Neville off with a comment about avoiding 'backstabbing stuck-ups' and hurry off, leaving Neville, who would shrug apologetically and give Harry an 'I-tried' look. Harry appreciated the effort, although it was clear to him that nothing was changing. If anything, Ron started avoiding him more.

Ginny also tried to help. She and Neville were good friends, so Harry ended up spending a lot of time with her too. Ever since she had found out that Hermione was ignoring him, she had made every effort to get Hermione to open up. He knew that she was trying to convince Hermione to speak with him because Ginny told him most of what Hermione said. She was startlingly blunt about it. None of it was flattering in the least.

Even though Harry tried to keep it under wraps, it was only a matter of time before the teachers found out. Professor Lupin held Harry and Ron back a couple times, giving them a small task such as picking up the remains of a lesson in an effort to get them to start talking again, but he gave up when they worked in silence, completely ignoring each other and responding to his questions as if they were the only ones in the room. Professors Flitwick and McGonagall tried similar ideas, but they all gave up in despair when they refused to cooperate. Only Snape and Vandermine seemed to not notice the that they were not talking. Snape seemed to rather enjoy it, because it meant that they would actually pay attention in class instead of whispering back and forth while Hermione took notes for them.

Vandermine acted no differently then he had before. There was no change in the way he treated them. If Harry had not been there when Vandermine told them the truth behind the article, he could have sworn that nothing had happened. He gave no hints that he had spilled one of his darkest secrets to Harry. If anything, he pushed Harry harder. Whenever he needed a pair to demonstrate some fine point of dueling, Harry almost inevitably got called up to the platform. To make matters worse, Draco was excelling in the Club. He drank in the information that Vandermine fed them, applying himself harder than everyone else as he strove to outperform them all.

He began to dread the Dueling Club, because he always took a beating from the more advanced members of his Level. There were a dozen Fifth-years in his Level, as well as a pair of Fourth-years. That left him, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Draco and Seamus. They always were paired up with Fifth-years when they practiced. Harry was not sure of the reasoning behind this, but he obeyed diligently, accepting the beating that he took every time he was slower on the draw then the Fifth-year facing him.

His studies with Professor Lupin were suffering from the stress. While Harry had been able to push the boggart-dementor back into the chest before, he could hardly keep his mind focused enough to even get a wisp out of his wand anymore. His special memory would be ripped from his mind and replaced by anger, anger that he had exploded over Hermione, angry that Ron flew off the handle and accused him of backstabbing, angry that he could not bring himself to apologize. The dementor affected him more and more each time, bringing the faint memories of his parents' screams vividly into his mind. He passed out nearly every time this happened, so much so that Lupin almost stopped teaching him. Only Harry's desperate pleas kept Lupin from pronouncing him a 'lost cause.'

He knew that he had to talk to Ron and Hermione, to heal the rift in their relationships. He spent mealtimes with Ginny and Neville, discussing what to do. They gave him advice on how or what to do, but, although they tried, they were not very helpful. Neville did not know anything about restoring a friendship because he had 'never lost one.' Ginny gave him many pointers on how to approach Hermione, but where Ron was concerned she had no sympathy.

"If he's going to act like a snob, let him. He's a idiot," was all he could get out of her. She obviously did not think to highly of Ron for losing his friendship with Harry like that. "Outrageous" she called it, that he would "give up his best friend just because he thought that Harry liked Hermione. After all," she would add to Harry's embarrassment, "you boys all have more hormones than brains at your age. You can't help it that we are so easy to fall for." Coming from a twelve-year old, it stunned Harry how forthcoming and bold she was.

Both agreed that he should go to Hermione first, because she was the one who would be easiest to reconcile himself with. They figured that, with Hermione on his side, convincing Ron to come back would not be as hard. Harry disagreed with them there. Ron had left in the first place because he thought that Harry was trying to hook up with Hermione. If he went to her first… what would Ron think?

_ No, it's safer to got to Ron first. It may be harder, but the risks are not as harsh. At least this way I will not have to worry about completely alienating one of them._ Despite the fact that it made perfect sense persuading Neville and Ginny that this was the way to go was harder than he thought it would be. They both argued that it was a dumb idea, starting with the harder of the two first, because, if he failed on the first, it would not help his chances with Hermione. Still, Harry was determined, so they caved in, grumbling the whole time.

Harry had decided to do it after a Dueling Club meeting. Ron always seemed to be in a better mood after that, because he was able to spend time around Vandermine. Vandermine made every effort to keep the Club exciting and intense even though they were progressing slowly. He kept the meetings fast-paced and involving so that the students would not have time to complain about the speed of the class. Harry saw the wisdom in this immediately. They were learning at a pace that was comfortable. Not too fast, but just slow enough to make sure that everyone mastered each step before the next one was brought in.

Vandermine also added elements to his classes that kept the atmosphere charged and exhilarating. Some days he would show them colossal battles from ancient empires, with huge dioramas spanning the length of the room. Harry knew about some of the battles from his history classes back in the Muggle schools. Many of the battles were pure combat, with no magic involved. These ones interested Harry the most. He loved the thought that magic was not something that mankind was dependent on. It was a healthy reminder to not put too much trust in any one thing. There were also magical battles that Vandermine showed them. He showed them a battle scene from the war between the Celtic 'druids' and the Norse 'shamans.' Seeing tiny, finger-sized men charging at each other in massive throngs while spells shot forth between them gave Harry a rush of adrenaline that lasted for hours on end. The battles looked so real, so amazing. He caught himself wishing more than once that he had been a live spectator. Then reality would kick in as the bodies began falling and the crowds were thinned. In the end, only a fraction of the sides remained standing and they were too bloodied and injured to continue the fight. Vandermine ended every battle-show with a warning about the dangers of pride and greed, and how they led to these terrible wars.

Today's lesson was no different, but completely different at the same time. When Harry entered the room, his eyes moved automatically to the miniaturized cliffs and sea that were on one side of the room. This scene was not spread across the floor, just underneath it so they could walk from point to point. Instead the scale was larger, with the figures the size of Harry's hand. The entire left side of the room was covered in the scene. On one side were hundreds of Greek-looking warriors carrying spears and shields. Facing them, on the other side of the wall, stood a host of warriors uncountable. Harry noticed that, while the Greeks were all uniformed and formed in rows, the other side was little more than a gigantic mob, with no soldier dressed the same as the one beside him.

Vandermine by the scene, beckoning the students to come closer. He waited until they had all gathered around before speaking.

"Can any of you tell me what this scene is from?"

The students looked around at the scene and shrugged. Vandermine did not appear to be surprised.

"Thermopylae, 480BC, Greece." He walked over to the mob of warriors on the far side.

"The Persian Empire has spread its iron grip over most of the Middle East, Northern Africa and even some into India. They can field armies of millions with ease. After conquering to their east and south, they move west. In this army, they had over two and a half million men." A few students gasped in astonishment. That number was unheard of. "Their target, Greece."

He pointed to the ranks of Greek warriors facing the horde. "Five thousand Greeks mustered to defend their cities. The Greeks were determined to fight, to protect their families at all costs. To do this though, they needed to even the odds against them. This is why they chose the 'Hot Gates,' at Thermopylae. It was a narrow pass, with the sea on their right," he indicated the steep drop off on the near side of the scene, "and unassailable cliffs on their left."

"Not all of the five thousand Greeks defended this pass. Several thousand were sent to guard a hidden pass around their flank. That left a few thousand men against the whole Persian army. At the head of the Greek formation stood the Spartans, the finest warriors to ever walk this earth."

He waved his wand and the figures came to life. The Persians jumped up and down, shouting war cries and straining to charge forward into battle. The Greeks stood quietly, swaying in the wind as they waited for the impending assault.

"Xerxes, the Persian emperor, sent ten thousand men to wipe them out the first day." With another wave of his wand the Persians charged, waving short spears and swords as they advanced. The Greeks readied their shields and locked their spears in place, presenting the Persians with a hedge of bronze.

"The Greeks slaughtered them, inflicting thousands of casualties with the loss of only a handful of their own."

The two side met with a crash that made Harry's skin crawl. The Greeks stood their ground, stabbing at the Persians from behind the safety of their shields. The Persians beat at their shield wall with reckless abandon. Within minutes, bodies littered the ground in front of the Greeks, piled so high in some places that the Persians had to climb the bodies to get at the Greeks behind them. A shudder of disgust ran up Harry's spine as he watched the senseless slaughter.

Vandermine let the scene play on for a few more minutes before he stopped it. He faced the students and shook his head.

"That happened for three days. The Persians kept attacking and the Greeks kept killing them. In the end, the Persians won. A Greek traitor revealed the location of the hidden pass, and the Persians encircled them. Killed them all in the end, even those that tried to surrender. The Greek army disintegrated once they were attacked on both sides, but they accomplished their objective. One year later, the Persian army was routed and scattered by a second Greek army at Plateau. They gave their lives for the freedom of their families and people."

Vandermine looked from one student to the next, eyeing them seriously. "There are two things that you can learn from this. One, power is not everything." His eyes roamed over to the Slytherins, who had watched the battle with rapt attention. "Having many followers or powerful weapons does not mean anything when faced with stout hearts and strong wills." Draco scowled slightly as he spoke.

"Two," he looked directly at Harry, "sometimes sacrifice is the best way to fight evil. Nothing can be won without losing something. But, those sacrifices are more effective than the most powerful spells that a wizard can create."

Vandermine made a hacking motion with his wand and the scene vanished.

"Today we are going to learn how to fight and counter Expelliarmus. It takes intense concentration and a quick mind. I need one volunteer."

Several hands shot up. Vandermine looked at the owner of each hand before choosing.

"Montague, hop up." The Slytherin student clambered up onto the platform, eyes sparkling evilly as he readied his wand.

Vandermine faced him casually, his eyes drifting from Montague's face to his hand, which was already straying dangerously close to his wand.

"You will attempt to disarm me on the count of three." Montague nodded jerkily.

"One, two-"

Montague's hand shot for his wand and he drew while Vandermine was still saying 'two.' A brilliant jet of golden light shot for Vandermine's wand. Vandermine stood in his place and allowed the spell to hit. Then, as his wand shot upwards away from his body, he became a blur of motion. He pushed off of the ground and leapt after the wand, grabbing it as it sailed past his head. Since the spell was still pushing it away, he used its momentum to spin around in the air, twisting like an eel. The spell broke on the wand and he launched himself towards the platform. He landed in a roll and came up with his wand aimed square at Montague's face. A spark shot out of Vandermine's wand and Montague was thrown backwards, where he thudded heavily against the wall.

Vandermine faced the rest of the students as Montague picked himself off the floor, his cheeks burning as a few students sniggered.

"I am not expecting you to be able to do what I just did. That takes years of practice and experience. It took me two years to master that move. However, if I can get someone up here who can _count_, I will show you what I expect of you. Seamus, come here."

Seamus climbed up onto the platform slowly, shaking slightly as he watched Montague limp over to the knot of Slytherins. Vandermine nodded impassively as Seamus took his place.

"On three."

Vandermine counted slowly and deliberately. When he said 'three,' Seamus pulled out his wand and cried "Expelliarmus!"

He allowed the spell to hit him as before. This time though, he simply snatched the wand from the air as it sailed away from him. Harry heard Seamus swallow hard, but Vandermine made no further moves. He motioned for Seamus to leave the platform, which he did willingly. Then he turned to the rest of the students.

"See that? Just a quick snatch. It takes concentration and speed. Seekers shoulder be good at it." He pointed to Harry and Draco. "You two, try it."

As Harry and Draco mounted the platform Vandermine gave them tips and encouragement.

"Don't expect to get it right the first time. This takes a lot of hard work and practice. Just concentrate on your wand as if it is a Snitch. As soon as it leaves your hand grab it."

They nodded distractedly. "Harry, hit Draco with Expelliarmus."

Harry drew his wand and aimed. "Expelliarmus." He cried.

Draco watched the golden light close in on him with wide eyes. He closed his eyes in anticipation as the spell hit. His wand flew from his hand with a bang. At the last second he grabbed wildly for his wand, but missed. It soared through the air and landed at his feet. Vandermine shook his head and retrieved Draco's wand.

"Don't anticipate the hit. Focus on your wand. You forgot to concentrate and did not look. Harry, you try it."

Harry cleared his throat nervously as Draco readied his wand, eyes burning with shame.

"Expelliarmus!"

The golden stream crossed the distance between them before Harry could blink. He tensed and forced himself to keep his eyes on his wand. There was a blinding flash of light as his wand was thrown from his grasp. As it flew from his grasp, he reached out for it, jumping slightly to grab it. Time seemed to slow down as his hand stretched out for it, fingers grasping desperately. He heard gasps in the background as his ringers closed around the wand, and then reality came back to full speed. He fell heavily to the ground, grunting in pain as his shoulder crunched painfully against the edge of the platform. For a moment Harry though that he had failed. He looked at his aching shoulder and went to touch it to check it… and saw his wand clutched tightly in his fist.

A scattering of cheers went up from the students as Harry pulled himself to his feet. Harry grinned awkwardly and climbed back onto the platform. Draco was glaring at him, his eyes full of loathing and disgust. Harry ignored him and looked at the others. The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws clapped their hands in admiration. Hermione was smiling, though she avoided looking at him. Only Ron and the Slytherins did not look impressed by his feat.

Vandermine moved in front of him and nodded appreciatively. "That was a good catch, especially for your first try. Five points for Gryffindor." The Gryffindors cheered at this.

"Everyone pair up and try catching your wand."

Harry paired up with a Fifth-year Ravenclaw, taking turns going for their wands as they were blown out of their hands. They both did well, each managing to catch their wands more often than not. They did this for half an hour. By the end of it, Harry's hand was starting to feel numb from the impact of the spells. Every time the spell hit it felt like he was getting punched in the knuckles. He was surprised that his fist was not bleeding by the time they finished.

The class was interrupted when Kathryn Stringer entered. She ignored the handful of 'hellos' and hurried straight to Vandermine. Harry caught a glimpse of her face as she passed. She looked worried, and her mouth was set grimly as if someone had just died. Vandermine met her halfway and she immediately began whispering with him in tones so low that Harry could not hope to hear. They spoke for a minute before Vandermine nodded.

"Students," He raised his wand to get their attention. "I have just been informed that I am needed to check something down in the Great Hall. Proceed back to you common rooms please. There is no cause for alarm, this is merely a routine inspection. Please leave quickly, thank you, bye."

The students filed out of the room, talking amongst themselves and voicing theories about what was happening. When the last one left the door slammed shut, locking them out from the conversation inside.

"Well, Harry," Neville appeared beside Harry, walking briskly to keep up with him. "Now's your chance. Ron's hanging near the back. It's now or never, mate."

Harry glanced over his shoulder. Sure enough, Ron was near the back of the to group, looking cheerful and not the least bit concerned about whatever was happening in the Great Hall. A lump formed in Harry's throat. He hesitated, but Neville gave him a bump with his shoulder.

"Come on, Harry. You can do it."

He shook his head slightly. Back when they had talked about it at lunch, it sounded so easy. Now, just the effort of looking at Ron felt like a burden. He hung his head and shrugged.

"Maybe some other time," he mumbled. "I don't feel up to it right now."

"Harry, if you don't talk to him now, who knows when you'll get another chance. Think about it. You two can talk as you walk back to the common room, without Malfoy or anyone else nearby. What could go wrong?"

"He could say no, get into another fight." The excuse sounded pathetic, Harry knew it. Still, he could not find the courage to bring himself to do it.

"What, are you scared?" Neville sounded confused. "You're _Harry_ _Potter_. You've defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, twice! You killed a basilisk! How hard can talking to Ron be?"

"Harder than that."

Neville shook his head. "Listen, Harry. If you need, courage, here." He pulled his mother's necklace off and handed it to him. "Take it."

"Are you sure?" Harry took the necklace hesitantly. As his fingers closed around it he felt a pulsing warmth spread through his arm. The necklace brightened a little bit as he accepted it. "I really can't…"

"Harry, just shut up and take it. I won't need it for a few minutes anyway. What could happen between here and the common room anyway?" He laughed. "I don't think that Snape is lurking behind any corners for me."

Harry let out a halfhearted laugh. "If you insist." He lifted the necklace and placed it around his neck. Immediately a flood of warm feelings flooded his body, washing away any doubts that he had. He felt a rush of determination and turned to Neville.

"Wow, this thing really works. Thanks-"

Neville had disappeared ahead of him. Harry stopped for a second, wondering where he had gone to. Then, pushing the question out of his mind, he turned around to find Ron. They nearly bumped into each other. Ron stopped abruptly and averted his eyes.

"Sorry," he muttered as he went to go around Harry.

Harry shifted over to block him.

"What do you bloody want?" Ron snarled, color rising in his cheeks as he tried to go around Harry again. Harry moved in time to block that route too.

"Ron," Harry sighed. "we need to talk."

* * *

Author's note: Reviews, people. They are not your enemies. Tell me what you think about this story, whether you like it, hate it, with Vandermine would spontaneously combust and die, come on. 


	15. Forgiveness Comes Unexpectedly

"And just what do we need to talk about?" Ron shouldered Harry out of the way, aiming determinedly for Sir Cadogan's portrait. "As far as I am concerned everything is perfectly clear. Stay out of my life."

Harry scrambled backwards and threw himself in Ron's way. He held out an arm to both sides, blocking Ron from moving around him. Ron glared at him but stood still.

"I need… I want to apologize for what happened, the night that I went to the hospital."

"Yeah, sure. The famous Harry Potter, apologizing to the stupid little Weasley kid. Bull, that's what it is."

He grabbed Harry's arm, and forced it down. Harry shifted over to stay in Ron's way, struggling to keep his voice steady.

"It's not like that, Ron! I don't think you're stupid."

"Than what was with all the stuff you said in the hallway? Didn't sound like you didn't mean it there."

"Ron, I wasn't thinking-"

"Oh, sure. Harry Potter, not thinking. And pigs can fly!"

A thought flitted through Harry's mind, that pigs actually _could_ fly when enchanted, but he pushed it aside. How could he think of something like that right now? He was trying to win back one of his best friends, not crack a joke.

"Ron, you know that I did not mean it. I say a lot of stuff when I get mad, so do you."

"Right, bring me back into it. Classic move, Harry. _It's not all my fault._"

"That's not what I was saying."

"Well, it sure sounded like it."

"Then I'm sorry I did not think that you would be so thick… I thought that you would understand where I was coming from."

"I don't."

"That is my fault then."

"It sure is."

Harry felt the blood rise in his cheeks and he bit his tongue to keep from speaking. Who was he to point fingers? _Calm down, Harry, you can do this,_ said the little voice in his head. _Just stay coolheaded._

"You're not making this easy."

"Why should I? I'm not the one who is apologizing. I'm not the one who ditched his friend."

"I never ditched you!" Harry sighed and fought to keep his temper. Ron could be so infuriatingly thick. "You were the one who walked away."

"Only because you couldn't!"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You weren't exactly in any shape to move quickly, not with your arm all bleeding and burnt and dislocated."

"Thanks for the noticing."

"You're not bloody welcome. I couldn't exactly ignore it, not with that snob Percy making me help you."

"So now you're blaming him?"

"No! I'm blaming myself for getting to know you in the first place. This whole bloody thing is your fault."

"That's harsh. I'm not the one who walked into the train compartment."

"I did not have much of a choice, if you don't remember. Everywhere else was full. Or have you forgotten that too."

"I did not forget it."

"You could have fooled me. I'd have thought that you had forgotten everything by now. You seem busy enough getting attention."

"Are you saying that I stabbed myself wit the poker on purpose?"

"Wouldn't be a surprise if you did."

"Ron, you're being thick. You said it yourself, you saw me thrashing around. How could I have done it on purpose?"

"You'd have found a way. Anything to get more attention works for you. I'm sure that Hermione was all over you after that. How long did she visit you in the hospital wing, admiring your bravery at suffering such an injury? Was it long enough?"

Harry's heart dropped to his stomach. So it had come around to this. He had been hoping that Hermione wouldn't be talked about. He was not ready to talk with Ron about that.

"I didn't do it on purpose." He muttered, more to himself than Ron. "It was a bad dream."

"Awfully convenient then. I suppose she came anyway."

"She didn't visit me."

"Really! Saw what a jerk you are than, did she. It's about time."

"It's not like that. Hermione and I-"

"Are still going out? What then, was she too busy to visit you?"

"No, she-"

"Was too heartbroken that you had gotten hurt?" Ron brushed off Harry's response. "Whatever. I'm going back to the commons room to do homework."

Harry stood his ground, not budging as Ron tried to move around him. Ron glared at him, eyes glinting dangerously.

"Get out of my way, Potter."

"Not until you hear me out."

"Hear you out! I just did hear you out. Get out of my way."

"No." The necklace pulsed warmly against Harry's chest. He felt a rush of adrenaline. He knew what was about to happen.

"One chance to get out of my way."

"I'm not moving."

Harry saw the fist coming before Ron drew it back. He could have easily dodged it, sidestepped it and hit Ron in his unprotected back. It was not the right thing to do though. He watched it the whole way in, making no attempt to block it. The fist collided with his jaw and his world went spinning. He fell backwards, landing flat on his back. The left side of his face felt like it was on fire. His teeth were burning in his mouth, the nerves screaming in protest as he staggered to his feet. He faced Ron quietly, forcing himself to ignore the pain.

"Look, Ron," he resisted the urge to rub his jaw. "All that I wanted to do was apologize. If you don't want to hear it, you can leave." Harry stepped to the side and dropped his arm. "I won't stop you."

Ron shook his head and walked past Harry. He moved quickly, but Harry could see that he looked less confident than before. Almost as an afterthought, Harry remembered what had gotten them in this situation in the first place. He felt a rush of warmth as the necklace pulsed against his skin, encouraging him.

"Hermione and I are not trying to go out." He said to Ron's departing back. "We never were."

He did not know why he said it. Maybe he thought that it would make a difference. Maybe it was just the necklace. Could it have sensed what he needed? Impossible, it was just a necklace that strengthened the wearer's will. But, what if it had some sentience, enough to know what the wearer needed? Harry frowned and he held the necklace up to inspect it, figuring that Ron would be gone, back in the comfort of the common room.

"Neville gave you that, didn't he."

Harry jumped in surprise. Ron was standing in front of him, looking from Harry's face to the necklace. He appeared thoughtful.

"I… needed it. I could not bring myself to face you on my own."

"Yeah…" Ron gazed at the necklace, lost in thought. "Are you telling the truth? About you and Hermione?"

"All of it." Harry slipped the necklace off his neck and held it in one hand. It felt lighter than when he had first taken it. It was pulsing brightly now, sending out little waves of light every second. The necklace glittered in the light, captivating his eyes in its beauty. "We had a fight that evening. It's the reason why I was still in the common room."

"And you haven't spoken with her since."

"Not a word. I wanted to talk to you first, since… you had thought that I was ditching you for her." He swallowed to clear his throat.

Ron nodded absently, still lost in the necklace. He and Harry stood there, staring at the necklace. The silence stretched between them and lasted for several minutes. Finally, after what seemed like ages, Ron spoke.

"I am such a git."

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am. I thought that you and Hermione… You two are my best friends. How could I have been that foolish?"

"Ron, you acted like anyone would have. It's not your fault."

"It was still stupid."

Harry shrugged. "Don't blame yourself Ron. I forgive you, but it's really me that needs to apologize."

"What for?"

"For not talking to you before now, for ignoring you in classes, for not being there when you needed a friend."

"Naw, I should have gotten over it. It's no big deal if you are trying to go out with her or not." He looked up from the necklace, eyeing Harry curiously. "Are you sure that you aren't trying to hook up with her?"

"Yes, Ron, I'm positive." Harry patted him on the arm. "I'd never do that to you. Let's go hit the books. Snape's Potions paper is a real killer."

Ron laughed and headed for Sir Cadogan, who was hopping up and down excitedly. As they came within view Sir Cadogan unsheathed his sword and waved it threateningly.

"Ah-ha! What do we have here? Two ruffians sneaking about unsupervised! Up to drunken foolery and mischief, no doubt. Well, stand and be counted scoundrels. Should anything have happened whilst you were skulking the corridors I will hold you accountable. Have at you miscreants!"

He brandished his sword and swung it in their direction. Harry and Ron exchanged bemused looks. This was a new one. As tiring as Cadogan could be, they had to give him credit for his demented creativity. He was more interesting than the Pink Lady by far.

"Lady Guinevere." They said in unison.

"Ah, but a Lady." Sir Cadogan lowered his sword and lifted the beaver of his helmet. "Her footsteps were like the gentle wisp of the wind as it coursed through the-" he paused and turned to Ron and Harry, who were waiting expectantly for the door to open. "Oh, go ahead." He sounded miffed as they hurried into the common room.

Harry smiled to himself as they entered the room. It felt good to have Ron back. It felt real good.


	16. Can a Dream Kill You?

_"Vandermine."_

_He stopped but did not turn. Instead he drew his wand in anticipation and growled. If Dumbledore wanted a fight, he was ready to give him one. Dumbledore faced him calmly, his hands at his side. He looked unconcerned by the whole situation._

_"You cannot do this, Lucas. You know that you cannot escape this." Dumbledore took a step nearer and he tensed, gripping his wand tightly beneath his cloak._

_"Stand down, Dumbledore. I'm not afraid to take you down too."_

_A crowd was gathering behind Dumbledore. Dozens of Ministry employees watched them with baited breath. Here were two of the most powerful wizards alive, facing off in what was likely to lead to a fight. No one wanted to be involved, but no one wanted to miss it. _

_"You are making a grave mistake, Lucas. This is not the way to find the answers you seek."_

_"To hell with the answers, Dumbledore! I don't care about the answers. I only want to get away from all this." He snarled and drew his wand, pointing it threateningly at the older wizard. Dumbledore smiled sadly at him, his eyes full of disappointment._

_"Lucas, think, my boy. If you leave, you will break everything that you have striven for these many years. What of her? You cannot abandon her like this. She needs you."_

_"She's better off with the rest of her family. She doesn't need me."_

_"Ah, but she does. How else will she learn the truth?"_

_"She doesn't deserve the truth. It is better that she never knows."_

_Dumbledore shook his head and advanced a step._

_"Are you sure of this? She is bound to find it eventually. Would it not be better for you to tell her?"_

_"From the pits of Azkaban?" he laughed harshly. The Ministry employees cringed at the sound. His laughter sounded like nails scratching a chalkboard. "No, that would only make things worse. But that is why you'd prefer it, wouldn't you. Always trade the bad for the worse where others are concerned, that's your method."_

_"I haven't the slightest clue what you are talking about," Dumbledore replied pleasantly, though a dangerous gleam appeared in his eye._

_"You saved me from the Kiss, sure you did. Instead, I got ordered down to the lowest levels for life. You know what they have down there, Dumbledore. You changed my sentence from losing my soul to living in hell. What good is that!"_

_"As I recall, you asked for my help."_

_"Not like that!" He shouted, his body shook from the barely contained rage coursing through his veins. "You've never had to face a Yawfle. You've never been forced to sit there, trapped in a small room while its eyes bore through your skull, sifting through your mind like a sieve. You've never had all your sins forced before your eyes." He shuddered as the memories flooded his mind. He inhaled sharply, causing the crowd to jump back in fear._

_Dumbledore sighed and took another step forward. "I know what you are feeling, Lucas. See reason, I beg you. What you are doing is against all you have stood for. What of the men and women you have trained. Think of them, Lucas. If you do this, break the justice of a system you have trained them to protect, they will have to hunt you down. You will have to fight your own students."_

_"They know better than to try it, old man. They know they could not bring me in."_

_"But they would try anyway. You have trained them well, Lucas, perhaps too well. Justice is their concern, not the powers facing them."_

_"Justice! There is no justice here, you know that. I have worked here long enough to realize that, Dumbledore. The Ministry is as corrupt as the rest of them. They punish criminals using the very spells and weapons that they strive to keep off the streets. The Cruciatus Curse is used more by Ministry officials than by the Death Eaters! What justice is in that?"_

_"Leaving now will splinter the Ministry, Lucas. You cannot do that to them, not when times are still so uncertain."_

_"The Ministry is a sham, it deserves to fall. The scum all deserve to die."_

_"Even the innocent?" Dumbledore spread his arms and indicated the gathered crowd. "Do they deserve this? What of those who take these jobs because they really believe in justice. You cannot condemn them all for the sins of a handful-"_

_"More that a handful, Dumbledore."_

_"Nevertheless, you cannot cast blame on them. It is not your position."_

_"Then I'll leave it to rot on its own." He turned his back on the crowd and started towards the fireplace._

_"Lucas, this is your final warning." Dumbledore's normally quiet voice had a hard edge to it. "Turn back now or I will be forced to stop you."_

_He kept walking, ignoring the old wizard, his eyes fixed on the fireplace._

_"Aguamenti!"_

_A jet of water shot pas this shoulder, quenching the flames of the fire ahead of him. He snarled and turned to the next one, but another jet of water put out its flames too. This happened to all of them as he turned from one to the next. Finally, one last fire stood lit, its flames dancing feebly in the still air. Dumbledore stood before it, his wand drawn and resting calmly at his side. He faced Dumbledore, drawing himself to his full height._

_"Step aside, fool, or I will kill you."_

_"Don't make me do this," Dumbledore looked pleadingly at him, begging him to stop this madness._

_"You are not going to stop me, Albus. I've had enough! Magic has destroyed my life. I'll use it if I have to, to get past you, but it's over. I'm getting away from this if I have to kill you in the process."_

_"You may try, Lucas, but I will not yield."_

_"Impedimenta!"_

_"Protego!"_

_The two spells hit with a flash that blinded everyone in the room. He was thrown off his feet by the force of the impact. He flew through the air and landed heavily against the wall. Stars exploded in his eyes as his head slammed against the mantle of a fireplace. He fell limp against the floor, letting his mind catch up with his body._

_"Still go it then, have you. It figures that you kept it, after beating him." He rose unsteadily to his feet and wiped the blood from his mouth. "You're too much of a coward to let it go."_

_Dumbledore inclined his head in a non-answer. "His wand has proven to be… useful."_

_"I'll get past you anyway. I don't need magic to get to that fireplace. I don't need it for anything." _

_"Have you learned so little, Lucas." Dumbledore sighed again, sounding to all the world like a tired teacher lecturing a rebellious student. "You cannot escape magic. It is everywhere, it will follow you no matter what you do. Your wand is a symbol of that."_

_Dumbledore pointed to the thin wand in his shaking hand. He looked down at it. Dumbledore was right, his wand was a reminder of the magic that permeated his life. He stared at it for a moment before deciding what to do._

_"You're right," he whispered, more to himself than anyone in particular. "It is a reminder." He straightened and strode towards Dumbledore with determined steps. Dumbledore raised his wand and aimed it at his chest._

_"I am not afraid to do it again, Lucas."_

_"You don't need to be." He stopped before Dumbledore and held out his wand. "You said that my wand is a reminder, a symbol of the power that I wield. I want to give up that power." He raised his wand and brought it down hard on his other arm, slapping it against his arm with all the strength he could muster. A ghostly scream split the air and his arm exploded in agony. The wand shattered in a dozen pieces. Splinters of the wand flew in all directions, flaying his skin up and down his side. He rocked back and forth on his feet and stared defiantly at Dumbledore, his eyes burning with menace. His bloodied and broken arm hung limp at his side. Dumbledore stared back at him, his eyes wide in shock. For once, he was too stunned to speak._

_"I am leaving, don't stop me." He brushed past Dumbledore and walked into the fireplace. Just before he left, he looked over his shoulder. Dumbledore was watching him sadly, his eyes brimming with tears._

_"So be it," the wizard whispered. "If that is your choice, I will not stop you."_

_Dumbledore raised his hand in a salute as the flames flashed brightly and he disappeared._

Harry breathed easily as he and Ron worked on their Potions paper. It was still hard and frustrating, three pages on the properties of some Tibetan killer weed whose name he could not pronounce, but Ron kept his spirits up with his running commentary on the subject.

"Ah, yes, Tibetan killer weeds, my favorite," he mumbled as he searched the books for information. "Right nasty lot, them's is. Lovely little blighters to put in some Malfoy's sock drawer. They're kind of cute. All that curling, twisted mass of purplish vines puts a real perspective on life, it does."

He could not help but chuckle at Ron's good humor. They were both feeling better, now that they had cleared up their argument and forgiven each other. Harry reckoned that they had not worked this well together in over a year. Harry searched one book for the weed's dangerous properties while Ron looked up its magical properties. There was not much of the latter, other than the weed was sentient, but of the former there were pages of warnings about its venom and hunting habits. It worked almost like an anaconda, strangling its prey, but it delivered thousands of miniscule pokes with its venomous spikes as it ran along the body of the victim. The venom was fatal enough to stop a rhinoceros mid-charge. That weed was one ugly little bugger.

It took them several hours to finish their papers, but they managed to put them together before Percy ran them off into their dorm room. Harry and Ron stayed up late that night, telling jokes and exchanging any news that one might have heard that the other had not while they had been avoiding each other. Not much was going on in the school, apart from the climbing security because of Sirius Black's recent appearances. Everything else was normal. Malfoy was still a royal pain, Snape was smarting from the thrashing that Vandermine had given him in Potions class in front of his students, all was normal.

Harry remembered that he had to go speak to Hermione as they said good night and jumped in their beds. He promised himself that he would speak with her the next day. For now, he just wanted to enjoy the feeling of having Ron back. He fell asleep easily, letting all the pent up anger and frustration drift away.

_He knew something was wrong when he gained consciousness. His shoulder hurt like it had been set on fire. Icy cold air assaulted him on all sides. His whole body felt stiff and sore. Miserable was not even close as to how he felt._

_He opened his eyes to see, but all he saw was a black cloth. He was blindfolded. His nerves roared in protest as he tried to grab at the cloth. A heavy rope had been wrapped around him. He was powerless to move._

_Muffled snarls alerted him that he was not alone. Something heavy crunched in the snow beside him. A body fell on top of him and he grunted. The person grunted back and rolled off to one side. There was something about that grunt that was familiar. Someone growled at them. Its voice was strained, like it was not used to speaking._

_"You two… no talking, or else."_

_Probably one of the were-creatures, were-dog by the sound and smell of it. The creature sniffed at the air and let out a little whine. It snarled again and hurried off, letting out a sound akin to muttering as it sought a warmer area._

_"That you, Frank?" he whispered once the steps of the were-creature had receded._

_"Lucas! What are you doing here?" Frank Longbottom let out a relieved sigh. "How did you get caught? I thought you had gotten away."_

_"Yeah, I got away." He grinned despite their situation. "Made a mess of them too. There're a couple of them that won't be back anytime on this side of life."_

_"You should not have killed them, Lucas. It is not our place to kill, only to arrest."_

_"Tell them that next time. They did not give me much of a choice. I had to, to get away. Only had a second to think, so I lashed out and Bam, they were dead."_

_"You did not use the Unforgivable, did you? You know better than to use that."_

_"Don't worry, I did it the old fashioned way. Pair of silver-tipped forty-fives did the job just fine."_

_Frank chuckled against his better judgments. "You always showed a fondness for Muggle gear. I never understood it, never will." He inhaled sharply and groaned in pain._

_"You alright, Frank?"_

_"Yeah, I'm fine." His voice told otherwise. "Just got scratched by some rocks."_

_"If you say so. I wish I had my wand, I'd fix you up right quick."_

_"Speaking of which," Frank's voice was serious suddenly. "What in the blazes are you doing here?"_

_"I'm rescuing you, didn't I tell you that already."_

_"No, you didn't." Frank laughed. "This is the oddest rescue attempt I've ever seen."_

_"Yeah, it has a few rough spots that I'm working out as I go."_

_"Was getting captured one of them?"_

_"Of course not. Had it planned all along." He laughed in his easygoing manner that always made Frank smile. "Wish they hadn't been so rough on it though. Darned inconvenient, them tying me up this hard."_

_"So young… you are the most impulsive, most amazing man I've ever known, Lucas."_

_"Thanks, Frank." He beamed underneath his blindfold. Coming from Frank, it meant a lot more than a simple compliment._

_"So," Frank said after they sat quietly for a few minutes, "what now?"_

_"What? Oh, right. Now I bust you out of here. Where's Alice?"_

_Frank's voice was subdued. There was a hint of fear as he spoke. "She's in the 'audience chamber,' being interrogated by Outrider."_

_"That rotten old hound-scum!" he made an effort to stand up, but fell over clumsily as the ropes pulled him down. "Let me at him and I'll knock his freaking block off."_

_"Quiet, I hear them coming."_

_They heard the footsteps long before the were-creatures arrived. It was a large party, probably a dozen. They clustered around the two wizards, taunting them and jabbing at them with their claws._

_"On your feet," one of them ordered. Rough hands grabbed them and lifted them up. "You's going to see the Boss."_

_"Oh, good," he said, speaking loud enough that they could all hear him. "I was getting bored."_

_Frank gasped in astonishment and he grinned. The were-creatures muttered to themselves, trying to figure out what he had meant by that. Not the most brilliant creatures. Finally, one of them decided it was an insult. He kept grinning even when the bulky, thick-boned fist crashed into the side of his head, snapping his head to the side. Starts exploded in his eyes and he fell._

The first thing he realized was that he was in pain. His head felt like he had just been knocked by a Bludger. Even with his eyes closed, he swayed back and forth, dizzy like he had just taken a blow. A pair of hands had him around his arms and was shaking him vigorously. Vaguely, he heard Ron shouting in the background.

"Harry, come off it, mate!"

"What? What happened?" Harry opened his eyes. Or, he opened one of them. His right eye burned like it was on fire and refused to open. He reached a hand for it, but Ron held it back.

"Don't touch that, Harry. That's a nasty lump you've got."

"Who hit me?" Harry sat up and shook his head. The movement sent spikes of pain blazing through his head and he groaned, clutching his head in an effort to ease the pain.

"No one hit you, Harry. You did it again."

"Did what?" he scowled and rubbed his hands together helplessly. His face was hurting more and more as he came to his senses.

"You flipped out in your sleep." Ron pointed to the post of the bed. "I woke up a moment ago and you were talking in your sleep. Kept saying 'Frank.' Who's Frank?"

Harry's insides turned cold as he remembered his dream. He looked around quietly, collecting his thoughts. Neville was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching Harry worriedly. A knot formed in his stomach.

"I'm… I'm not sure." He lied. "I don't remember."

"Are you ok then?"

"I think so. It must have been a bad dream."

"Yeah, right." Seamus poked his head around the curtain of his bed. "When Ron tried to wake you, you sat up and slammed your head into the bedpost." He slapped his hands together enthusiastically. "Thwacked your head so hard I thought you'd be unconscious by now."

Harry grimaced and laid back on the bed. His head was swimming from the pain. Right now he needed time alone, time to think about the dream. Why was he seeing them? What were they? He decided to ask Ron, but not around the others. As much as he trusted Neville now, if this dream was about his parents, it was better he not know about it until they had sorted the whole thing out clearly.

"You sure you're all right, Harry? You look horrible." Neville leaned in and examined the side of his head. "You should get that checked out. There might be splinters or you might have cracked something."

"Yeah, you're right. Could you go get Professor McGonagall? Seamus, could you get Madame Pompfrey?"

They nodded and took off. As soon as the door closed behind them, Harry turned to Ron and hushed him with an upraised hand.

"Ron, I don't think this is an accident."

Ron scoffed. "It doesn't take a genius to figure that out, Harry."

"I know, but," he leaned in closer and whispered, as if afraid that someone would overhear them. "I think I'm seeing someone's memories."

An eyebrow twitched, but that was all the response Harry got. Ron gave him a disbelieving look and shook his head.

"That's impossible, Harry. Whose memories could you be seeing?"

"Vandermine's."

Ron's eyes opened wide and he swallowed hard. He made no effort to speak though, so Harry kept talking.

"I know what you're thinking. I'm not going mad. This is not the first time this has happened. Last time I had a dream like this was when-"

"When you threw yourself on the poker." Ron's voice was hoarse with excitement. He leaned in closer, frowning as if he was thinking of an explanation.

"That's right. Each time I've had a dream, something bad happened to him, and it happens to me too."

"Well, what happened in the dreams?"

Harry leaned back, careful not to bump his head. "They are connected, the dreams. In the first one, he was looking for something. Someone, actually. He was in a huge cave. He had almost found them when he got attacked. He blocked a lot of the spells, but one got through and launched him backwards, right into a stalagmite."

"Hence the poker."

"Yeah."

"So what attacked him? Were they Death Eaters?"

"They weren't Death Eaters, or at least, I'm pretty sure they weren't. All I know was that one moment it was perfectly quiet, then a barrage of spells flew his way. I could not see his attackers because of the light. Even for me, it was blinding."

"Huh." Ron rocked back in his seat, brow furrowed in concentration. "Do you suppose it was an outlaw gang?"

"No. It had something to do with Johannes Outrider."

"Really? How do you know."

"The second dream, Ron. Tonight, when he woke he was tied up. A were-creature was guarding him."

"They were Outriders servants. He mutated other creatures, but since they were not human he could control them. Used them like soldiers."

"I know."

"What happened next?"

"Do you remember the name I was muttering?"

"Frank? Yeah, it must have been," Ron whistled and fell back in his chair. "Frank Longbottom. Neville's dad!"

Harry nodded solemnly. "They were both captured. While their guard was not nearby they talked. Vandermine was taking the whole thing lightly, joking around and all as if it were all a game."

"I heard he did that. Most of the other Aurors thought he was a nut, because he never acted seriously around them. When he was around them he was completely calm, but once the spells started flying, he was like a demon on steroids."

"Not how I would have put it, but that works." Harry shrugged experimentally. His face was still hurting, but it hurt a lot less than before. "He and Frank… Mr. Longbottom were then grabbed by a bunch of the were-creatures. Vandermine talked smack to them and one of them hit him."

"And that was why you tried the bedpost with your noggin."

"Funny, Ron. You're a riot."

"I thought it was funny." Ron sounded hurt, but he smiled when Harry snorted in disbelief.

"What does it mean though? Is it common, to see others' memories? Does it happen often, if at all?"

Ron shook his head. "It's just as common as Parseltongues." He shot Harry a joking glance and patted him on the back. "I guess that's why you've got it. You've got more uncommon abilities than I have common ones."

Harry nodded in agreement and rubbed the side of his face. "I just wish these dreams would stop. It's getting to be a real pain. Do you know how they work, seeing another's dreams?"

"No clue. You should ask Hermione about…" his voice trailed off when he saw Harry wince as her name. "You should look it up in a book. I think it has something to do with sharing very strong emotions, like hatred or love."

Further conversation was interrupted as the door swung open to reveal a very worried Madame Pompfrey and Professor McGonagall. They swooped in on Harry like mother eagles, checking his face for cuts and splinters. Harry bore it all stoically, complaining only when Madame Pompfrey drew her wand and pressed it hard along his jaw line. Searing pain rebounded in his skull and he let out a yelp of pain, but the pain subsided as soon as it arrived, leaving his skin cool and restored. Madame Pompfrey looked him over one last time and hurried out, mumbling something about and injured Slytherin. Harry fervently wished it was Draco.

He dropped back into the comfort of his pillows as the door shut behind her, feeling drained. Maybe he could get some sleep now. Potions class was going to be hard tomorrow.

"Harry Potter!"

Harry felt a jolt of electricity course through his veins and he shot straight up, eyes wide in fear as Professor McGonagall stamped her foot impatiently. He had forgotten about in her in the rush with Madame Pompfrey.

"What in the blazes made you do this? What were you thinking, young man?" She scowled and motioned for him to get out of bed.

"It was nothing," Harry muttered, staring at the floor to avoid her piercing gaze. He could feel her irritation like she was stabbing him. "Just a bad dream."

"Just a bad dream!" she shrieked, reaching levels that only a woman could. "And just what kind of dream was it that would make you slam your head into a bedpost? Is this related to the poker incident?"

Harry nodded weakly, not daring to look her in the eye. His cheeks were burning with shame.

"Well, then, I'm afraid this is over my head." She sighed and waved at his drawer. A bathrobe flew out of it and moved before Harry. He took it grudgingly and put it on. "We must put an end to these, these dreams."

She turned to Ron. He flinched under her hard gaze. "Fetch Professor Vandermine. Tell him to meet us in Professor Dumbledore's office immediately."

Ron bowed jerkily and rushed from the room. Once he had gone, Professor turned to Harry and pointed to the door. "Let's go."

Harry followed her meekly as they traversed the corridors of the school. He kept his head down, too embarrassed and confused to meet his House teacher's gaze. He knew that she was worried for him, that she wanted him to be safe, but he did not want to tell her about what he had seen. Every time he told someone about anything relating to Vandermine, something bad always happened.

They brushed past the sleepy gargoyle sentries, pausing only long enough for them to acknowledge the password. Their tired complaints on his ears, Harry proceeded up the stairs to Dumbledore's office, his heart inching closer to his throat with each step.

Vandermine and Ron were already in the room. Ron started to give Harry an encouraging look, but his smile faltered as Professor McGonagall glared at him. He settled with sneaking a thumbs up to Harry, who grinned despite the situation. As bad as this meeting was sure to be, seeing that Ron was trying to stay positive made Harry feel better.

Professor McGonagall acknowledged Vandermine with a curt nod and turned to face Professor Dumbledore.

"Professor Dumbledore, Professor Vandermine," she winced at the words. Evidently she had not been pleased with Vandermine's new position. "I though it best to alert you that young Harry has been having nightmares. Dangerous nightmares. Something needs to be done to stop them, but I do not know what."

"Oh? Your dreams are troubling?" Dumbledore sounded more curious than alarmed. He folded his hands and stared down at Harry through his spectacles. His gaze, although light and cheery, was so intense that Harry felt butterflies in his stomach when their eyes met. "I heard that a similar incident happened not very long ago. Interesting, to be sure. What say you, Harry?"

Harry swallowed to calm his nerves and nodded. "Yes, Professor Dumbledore."

Professor McGonagall stepped forward and cleared her throat. Harry held in a sigh of relief as she addressed Vandermine.

"Professor, do you have any knowledge of this sort of occurrence?"

Vandermine frowned and looked from McGonagall to Harry. His eyes unfocused thoughtfully and he shook his head.

"That depends on what his dreams consisted of." He pushed off of the wall he was leaning on and strode over to Harry. Harry shuffled his feet nervously as Vandermine circled around him.

"Been dreaming about kissing girls?" he indicated the side of Harry's face. Harry felt blood rush to his cheeks and he ducked his head under his arm, pretending to cough.

McGonagall bristled indignantly at this. "Professor Vandermine! This is a serious matter."

"And I am taking it seriously." Vandermine eyed her calmly, not batting an eye. "I'm just wondering if the dreams might be unrelated. It is possible." He turned to Harry. "Were they related, your dreams?"

Harry nodded his head, not trusting himself with words. He was sure that he was blushing.

"What were they, Harry? What were you dreaming of?"

Harry shook his head. His mind froze as Vandermine's eyes found his. Every detail of his dreams flashed vividly in his mind. What would Vandermine do if he found out?

"Professor, could it be Dark Magic?" McGonagall moved forward and placed a protective hand on Harry's shoulder. "What if this is Black's doing?"

"No." Vandermine took a step back and looked at Dumbledore. "Black would not try to get at Harry through dreams. It is impossible, to make another see your dreams. Even if it was, he would need eye contact, and Harry was sleeping also. From what I heard, Black would not have worked that way anyway."

"Are you sure?"

Vandermine smiled, looking unusually smug. "Shoot me if I'm wrong. Harry's dreams are not the work of Dark Magic."

"Then what are they? Lucas, he threw himself on a poker!"

"I'm waiting for Harry to tell me." He shifted his eyes back to Harry, who felt his stomach lurch painfully. "What did you see?"

Harry looked around at the people in the room. He cast Dumbledore a pleading glance, which did not go unnoticed by Vandermine.

"No one is going to leave until you told us what happened." His voice was firm, leaving no room for argument.

Professor McGonagall leaned closer and looked Harry in the eye. She gave him a look of mixed pity and affection. "Everything will be fine, Harry," she told him. When he nodded uncertainly she patted him on the back.

"Well, sir," Harry began, nervously chewing on his lip. "I think I've been reading your mind."


	17. End the Dreams, Begin the Mystery

Harry could have heard a pin fall in the silence that followed. Professor McGonagall's eyes widened in surprise and she opened her mouth to speak, but shut it just as quickly. Harry saw the glance she shot Vandermine and he winced. Vandermine continued staring at him though, not seeming the slightest bit disturbed by what he said.

"Professor Dumbledore, McGonagall, Ron, will you please leave us for a moment." Vandermine looked at each one in turn. "I need to speak with him privately about this."

Professor Dumbledore answered for all of them, cutting off McGonagall's indignant reply before she could speak.

"Certainly, Lucas. We will wait outside until you call us. Minerva, Ron, let us be off." He picked up his wand and walked to the door. As he passed Harry, Harry saw him exchange a quick look with Vandermine. Vandermine held his gaze for a second and shook his head. Satisfied, Dumbledore hurried out of the office, taking Ron and the protesting McGonagall with him.

Harry felt his stomach lurch as the door shut. Vandermine turned to him slowly, as if unwilling to face him. His eyes looked tentative, almost afraid.

"What did you see?"

"I…uh… I saw something from your past, I think. You were looking for some people. One was a girl."

Vandermine moved faster than Harry's eyes could follow. He grabbed Harry by the throat and pushed him back against a bookshelf. Stars exploded in Harry's eyes as his windpipe was pressed together by Vandermine's iron grip. Harry opened his mouth to call for help, but something in Vandermine's eyes froze his voice before it left his throat. He saw genuine fear, and something that he could not place.

"Who was it? What was her name?" Vandermine shouted, trembling slightly.

Harry gasped for breath. Vandermine was choking him too much for him to speak. Specks of black crept into Harry's vision and he let out a strangled cry. Vandermine relaxed his grip slightly, enough to let him speak. Harry swallowed hard and spoke quickly, "It… it was Alice Longbottom. She had been captured by the werewolf, Outrider!"

Vandermine abruptly dropped him and turned his back. As Harry fell on all fours, sucking in air, he strode over to Dumbledore's desk. Harry heard him smack his fists together angrily. He swore loudly and Harry jumped.

They stood there for minutes, neither looking at the other. Harry massaged his aching neck, wondering silently what had made Vandermine react so badly.

"I am sorry for that," Vandermine said at last. He turned to face Harry, looking solemnly at the floor in front of him. "I lost control. For a moment, I thought that you had seen something else. Something that no one should see." He shook his head and sighed heavily. "It will never happen again."

"Never happen again? You just about choked me to death!" Harry took a step forward. "What was that?"

"You do not need to know."

"Don't need to know? You just-"

Vandermine waved his hand and Harry's voice died in his throat. Something tightened in his windpipe, forming a shield around his vocal cords.

"Stand still so I can fix your problem." Vandermine moved closet and raised his wand. "This might feel strange, but I guarantee that this will end the dreams."

Ignoring Harry's muted protests, Vandermine stretched out his arm and placed his wand on Harry's forehead. He whispered something that Harry could not hear and a jet of black energy reached out towards Harry. He felt dizzy for a moment, then a pleasant feeling filled his brain. He could not place it, but something had clicked in his mind. A weight that he had not even realized existed lifted suddenly, leaving him light and relieved. It was as if Vandermine had taken a heavy backpack off him.

Vandermine held his wand up for a second longer before releasing the energy. He lowered his wand and nodded to Harry.

"There. The memories will trouble you no more. Tell Professor McGonagall and go back to your dormitory. You'll need sleep for tomorrow." He headed for the door.

"Wait!" Harry moved forward and cut him off. He stared defiantly at Vandermine who eyed him coolly as he shifted to block his exit. "Tell me what just happened back there."

"I already told you, you do not need to know."

"Like hell I don't! You just about killed me!"

"What you saw was nothing more than a…" Vandermine glare at him and holstered his wand. "Get out of my way."

"What were you afraid of?"

"Harry, as much as I admire your abilities and your parents, this is one thing I must ask you to let go. All that you need to know is that you will not be bothered by the dreams again."

Vandermine put a hand on his shoulder and moved him aside gently but firmly. Harry pushed back against the hand, but allowed Vandermine to walk by him. He glared at Vandermine's back as he closed in on the door.

"Was it about Bellatrix then? Is that what you were afraid of? Something you did with her?"

Harry winced as the words left his mouth. Vandermine tensed and turned back slowly.

"No, it was not. Leave it alone, Harry. What I was afraid of is something that would blow your mind. You do not want to know what I thought."

"Tell me anyway."

"Harry, have you listened to a single word I have told you? Do you remember any of the lectures from the Dueling Club. If a wizard wants to keep a secret, do not meddle with him. Prying into what does not concern you is a serious offense, not officially, but personally."

"But I still want to know."

"Then you will have to be satisfied with nothing."

Harry let out a scornful laugh. "I will find out eventually, _Professor_."

Vandermine actually smiled. He shook his head slowly, eyeing Harry with something akin to respect.

"Just like your dad. No respect for authority or privacy. Good luck trying, Harry, but you will never find it out. This is a secret that only myself and Dumbledore need know. And you won't be finding it out from him, I can promise you that. Get to bed, Harry. You've had a long day.

Vandermine turned away from Harry before he could reply and left the room. Harry watched after him, already formulating a plan to discover the secret.

* * *

Author's Note: Sorry that this is so short and that it's been so long since I've updated. Life kind of hectic right now. Please review it and tell me what you think. 


	18. Vandermine goes Hunting

_It did not take long to get used to living without his wand. He had learned enough over the years that he could manage easily enough on his own. In fact, he got on better without the wand than he had with it. It was like he had been freed of some oppressive burden. He could really breathe now, enjoy the world for what it was._

_He stayed camped out side the small town near the Thames where he had lived for several weeks. It was too soon to go back to his house, to collect his belongings. Most of it he could do without, but all of his money, clothes and weapons were all stocked safely away in the recesses of his house._

_He would have to get to it soon, but his house was being watched closely. He spent several days recording their patrol patterns, spotting the weaknesses in their surveillance. It was quiet thorough, more so than he had ever seen. It was still flawed though, that he could see. It was only a matter of time before the opportunity to break in would arise. Then he could grab his gear, and truly leave his magic past behind._

"Well, what did he do?" Ron asked as Harry walked down the stairwell.

Harry walked past him and kept going, eyes focused ahead of him, still digesting what had happened back in Dumbledore's office. He did not hear Ron, nor did he see Ron's exasperated look as Harry reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Harry!"

Ron grabbed Harry by the shoulder and spun him around. "Wake up."

"Oh, what, sorry." Harry looked around as if noticing Ron for the first time. "I was thinking about something."

"I noticed." Ron let go of his shoulder and pointed back towards the office. "So, what happened."

"He fixed the problem." Harry bit his tongue when Ron eyed him disbelievingly. His answer had come out a little too fast.

"And…"

"He... flipped out when I told him about the dream."

"What?"

"Yeah. I told him that, in the dream, he was looking for a girl and he went berserk. He grabbed me and shouted in my face."

Ron gave Harry a worried look. "Did he hit you or anything?"

"No. When he heard it was about Mrs. Longbottom, he calmed down immediately. Refused to explain it."

Ron looked at Harry as if expecting an explanation anyway. When Harry did not speak, he huffed and continued walking down the hall back to the Gryffindor common room. They walked in silence most of the way.

"Are you going to tell Dumbledore?" Ron asked as the door came in sight.

Harry stopped and stared at the floor. He mulled over the question uncertainly. "I don't think so."

Ron raised an eyebrow and put a hand on Harry's forehead. He frowned and patted Harry on the back. "No fever. You sure that he didn't whack you on the head or something?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Why would you not tell Dumbledore? Vandermine assaulted you! What if he does it again?"

"He won't."

"How can you be sure?"

Harry avoided Ron's eyes and shrugged. "Dumbledore wouldn't help."

"What? How do you know that? You haven't asked him yet."

Harry looked over at Ron and exhaled sharply. He was so tired. "Vandermine said that Dumbledore already knew about it, and that he would not tell anyone."

"Knew about what? Him shouting at you?"

"No, he knows about whatever it was that made Vandermine do that."

"And he promised not to tell?"

"Yeah."

"That's a bummer."

"Uh-huh." Harry stopped before the portrait and held up his hand to keep Ron from the door. "Ron, wait a second."

"What is it Harry?"

Harry searched his memory for something he had seen during the meeting. He thought back to when Vandermine had grabbed him. What was it about his eyes? Fear, wasn't it?

"Whatever it was that he thought I had seen," Harry chose his words carefully, not wanting to unduly upset Ron. "it scared him. Scared him really bad."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I told you, when I mentioned that he was looking for a girl, that was when he went crazy."

"Who do you think he was thinking of?"

"I have no idea, but I want to find out. Where would be a good place to look up his history?"

"The library, maybe." Ron scratched his head. "I'm not so sure about that though. Most books and such about him were purged from the Wizarding community by the Ministry after he was arrested."

"What?" Harry turned to face Ron, his eyes widening. "Why would they do that? They couldn't have. That's illegal, isn't it?"

"Evidently not. Anyway, if there is anything in there, we'd need a genius to find it. The only surviving material would be in broader books, like general history or famous people. I can guarantee you that there won't be a single book with more than a dozen pages on him."

Harry groaned and leaned against the wall. "Then it'll take ages to find anything."

"Yep. Unless we get the librarian to help, or someone just as smart. Someone like…"

"…Hermione."

"Yeah." Ron bit his lip and looked away from Harry. "That'll be a bit of a problem."

"Sure will be." Harry shrugged and turned back to the portrait. "I'll try and talk to her tomorrow. Maybe I can smooth things out."

"Good luck on that."

Harry turned sharply to look at Ron, a sarcastic comeback already forming on his tongue. But when he saw that Ron had truly meant it, that it was not a biting remark, he bit his tongue and rushed into the room. He felt his cheeks reddening in shame. _That was stupid, really stupid_. Harry tried to forget about his almost-retort as he climbed under his sheets. He shook his head roughly, trying to clear away the negative thought.

_Come on, Harry_, he thought, _you're not that stupid. Did it really sound like a taunt, or was I just looking for an excuse?_ He banished the thought to the remotest corner of his mind and closed his eyes. The bed felt softer than usual. Maybe it was because he was exhausted. Whatever it was, Harry fell asleep in minutes. His sleep was pleasantly dreamless.

Morning came soon, too soon for Harry's liking. He crawled out of bed with dread. He vaguely remembered something about a Potions paper and a bad dream, but he felt so tired that he could not place the memories. He brushed off the thoughts and shuffled over to his wardrobe and threw on his school robes, not caring if they were clean or not. Judging from the looks that he got as he descended the stairs, they were dirty. _Really dirty_.

He did not care. He edged through the crowd to where Ron was sitting, comfortably resting on the chair nearest the fireplace. Ron turned his head slowly as Harry sat down beside him. His eyes flicked briefly to Harry's robes, but he kept his comments to himself. Harry nodded in thanks at his silence and blinked several times. His vision was blurry and he couldn't think why. He raised his hands to his face and rubbed his eyes. When he stopped, he was still seeing only blurry images.

"Try putting your glasses on," called a voice from behind him.

Harry slapped himself on the forehead and mentally berated himself. How could he have forgotten his glasses? He had only been wearing them for six years. He cast Ron an accusing look, forcing himself not to grin as Ron laughed.

"Thanks for telling me, Ron. Great help, you are."

Ron shrugged and gave Harry a goofy smile. "You didn't look like you wanted help."

Harry started to reply, but thought better of it and shut his mouth. He looked over his shoulder to see who had helped, but whoever it was had disappeared in the sea of Gryffindors milling in the common room. Harry scanned the face of each student, searching for a clue as to the identity of his helper. Seeing nothing, he gave up and turned towards the stairs.

"I'll be right back." He told Ron. Ron waved him in acknowledgement and started up a conversation with a nearby third-year Gryffindor student.

Harry hurried back to his room. He rushed over to his bed and found his glasses right where he always put them. Full awake now, Harry searched his wardrobe his for cleaner robes. He put them on quickly and, putting his glasses on, ran down to the common room. It had cleared out for the most part by the time Harry got back down, but Ron was still waiting for him. They left the common room and headed for the Great Hall for breakfast.

Neville joined them as they entered the Hall. Amazingly enough, a spot was available near the doors, so they grabbed it. The meal was delicious, as usual, and they tore into it like wolves. The hour flew by as they exchanged stories and gossip about the school. Neville had heard that Vandermine was tightening up security in the grounds. At least two members of his team were patrolling at all times. Harry and Ron listened patiently as Neville described the set up of the school's security. Harry was astonished at how much security there was. He knew that the dementors and Vandermine's team were there, but he had not realized all of what they did. The school had hundreds of spells protecting its borders alone, not too mention the myriad of spells cast minefield-like across the areas just inside the walls. From the way Neville described it, Hogwarts protection spells alone could defeat an entire army of wizards.

"If there is so much security then how did Sirius Black get in?" he wondered aloud once Neville finished.

"Vandermine thinks that, since he is an ex-student, many of the protection spells don't cover him. The spells were placed mainly to prevent sabotage from other schools, as well as any foreign threats. To a former resident, the spells are as easy to get by as a knife through butter."

"So, you're telling us that Sirius Black had only to slip pas the dementors to get in."

"Yeah. But how he got past Vandermine's team, that's what I cannot figure out."

Harry frowned and pounded a fist on the table. "What's the point of all this security if they can't even keep him out!"

Neville bristled at that, but Harry held his hands up placatingly. "I'm not insulting Vandermine, believe me. It's just that… well…"

"You want him caught."

Harry nodded seriously. "I want him caught and beaten." A shiver ran up his spine as he thought about what he said. "I want him to pay for what he did. I want him to feel the pain that I have to live with."

"So do we, Harry." Ron patted him on the back and pointed across the hall to the teachers' table. "Look, there's Vandermine. What is he doing?"

Harry jerked his head towards the teachers' table. Vandermine was there, in Muggle body-armor with what looked like a full backpack and two duffel bags, both loaded with equipment. A dozen detonators and pistols were strapped to various parts of his body. He looked like a walking armory.

The most impressive thing that Vandermine was carrying was his definitely his rifle. Harry recognized that the Muggle weapon was a sniper rifle by the lengthy barrel. The weapon was almost five feet long, of which over half was the barrel. Harry had seen that particular rifle on the cover of one of Dudley's sporting magazines. _Barret something. Supposed to be pretty powerful_.

"What's that he's holding?" Ron asked, straining to get a better look at the weapon. He had obviously never seen a Muggle rifle before, because his next question was completely off the mark. "Is that some kind of Muggle spear? How does it work?"

Harry laughed quietly at his friend's confusion, but he honestly knew just a little more than Ron did.

"No, Ron. That's a sniper rifle."

"A what?" several Gryffindors turned to face him, eager to hear more about the foreign object. Harry blushed slightly at the sudden attention.

"It's… well, a rifle is what the Muggles use to fight with now."

"How does it work?" Lee Jordan leaned in closer, his eyes wide with curiosity. "What does it do?"

"You pull the trigger-"

"What's a trigger?"

Harry inhaled deeply and forced himself to calm down. "This'll take forever to explain." He said matter-of-factly. "All that I'll say is that with a rifle, people can kill other people from great distances."

Most of the Gryffindors scowled in disgust and went back to their meals, no longer interested in the topic. A handful were even more interested though, and Harry found himself barraged with questions about the way that the Muggles did this.

"How can it kill someone? What does it do?"

"Well, it shoots a bullet, that is a small metal object" he added when he got curious looks, "at very high speeds. The bullets are fired fast enough to punch through skin, clothes, and even other metals sometimes."

One of the Gryffindors snorted in disbelief. "You're making that up. It's impossible."

"No, it isn't. They can do this from far away, even a mile."

"A mile and a half, actually."

Harry jumped in his seat as Vandermine's hand descended on his shoulder. He had not heard him approaching. Neville and Ron looked up at him questioningly, wanting to hear more about the rifle.

"The longest recorded kill was from over a mile and a half."

Harry nodded absently and brushed off his hand. "Where are you going?" he asked, wishing to change the subject.

"Afghanistan." Vandermine answered. "We got a contract to hunt down some terrorists, and we don't have enough people to send a team without lightening security too much. So I'm going in solo. I'll be gone for a week tops."

"A week?"

Vandermine chuckled softly and shrugged. "I've only got five targets."

Harry and Ron exchanged surprised looks. One week to find five men?

"So are you going to capture them?"

Harry looked into Vandermine's eyes and got all the answer he needed. Shuddering slightly, he turned back to the table, his face going pale. He grabbed the edge of the table to steady himself. The food that he had just eaten felt like it was jumping in his stomach, threatening to escape at a moment's notice.

"What's a terrorist?" Ron asked the question innocently, not comprehending what the term meant.

Vandermine's face hardened and his lip curled in anger. "They are scum. Radicals and fanatics, so obsessed with one goal that they will do anything to see it accomplished."

"Is that so bad? What's the worst they could do?"

"They could strap bombs to themselves and blow up in the middle of a crowded store."

Ron's face whitened and he sagged in his seat. His mouth opened to form a surprised 'O,' but Vandermine cut him off.

"They murder innocent people by the hundreds just to satisfy their bloody dreams."

Harry shuddered and looked down at his plate, feeling queasy.

"So, you're going out to kill them."

"Eventually. Once I'm done with them, I'll kill them." His voice was so cold, so emotionless that Harry nearly gagged.

"What do you mean, 'once you're done with them?'"

"I mean just that." Vandermine hefted the sniper rifle and smiled. The smile was not a happy smile though, but more like a smile of anticipation. "This baby is great for pain shots. One through the kidney or liver should do just right. Give'em an hour or so to die. Just long enough for me to climb over to them and finish them off on my own. Nice and slow, so they can have a long time to see the results of their actions."

Ron choked on his food, his face turning green. Harry glared at Vandermine's callous smile and turned away, anger burning in his eyes. His voice shook when he spoke, so disgusted was he by Vandermine's words.

"That's inhuman."

Vandermine shrugged again, dismissing the accusation with an uncaring sigh. "It's not my fault. They started this, and I'm ending it. I want them to pay for what they did, or would do if they aren't stopped."

Harry stiffened as he said that. A cold feeling gripped his stomach as he thought about those same words that he had said not five minutes ago. He gripped the edges of the table tighter and ducked his head low, avoiding the stares of his friends.

"Anyway," Vandermine said after an awkward silence. "I'll be gone for a while. Judder will be in charge of the dueling club while I'm out. Talk to him if you have any questions."

Vandermine spun on his heel and left the Hall, exiting through the massive doors quieter than a man carrying all that gear should. Harry watched him go, ignoring the retching sounds coming from Ron's place at the table. When he turned back, he met Ron and Neville's stares. They looked worried.

"Remind me not to get on his bad side," Ron said, smiling feebly as he attempted to lighten the mood.

Harry almost grinned, but any happy thoughts were immediately squashed as he thought of what Vandermine had said. He shuddered in horror and tried to clear his mind. It did not work though, and he too vomited his lunch onto his plate. His throat burned for a long time after that, but that pain would be nothing compared to what Vandermine had planned for his targets. Harry tried to drive the thoughts away, but they stayed with through his classes, haunting his every step.

He hardly noticed as he and Ron got up from their last class. They walked silently across the school, both too immersed in their own thoughts to say anything. Neither of them noticed when they turned into the wrong hallway. Instead of going back to their dorm, they unconsciously moved towards the library. Harry did not realize this until he collided with another student as he entered the library. He instinctively dropped down to his knees to get the dropped materials, scooping them up while muttering apologies. When he rose to hand them back to their owner though, he dropped them again, his mouth opening wide in shock.

Hermione just stood there, glaring angrily at him.


	19. Making Up

_Years later they asked me how I got into the house. None of the wizards saw me, none of the traps were set off. I just laughed. No security team on earth could stop me from getting into my own house. Especially considering that I had trained every wizard that had guarded my house._

_It was a piece of cake, really._

"Uh… Hermione, what are you doing here?" Harry stuttered, diving frantically for the fallen books.

Hermione gave a frustrated sigh and blocked Harry from her books. She scooped them up with one hand and turned to leave.

"What do you think I'm doing? It's a library. I read books. Or did you forget that already?"

"Yeah, but… never mind." Harry reached down and retrieved a scrap of paper that had escaped her grasp.

"You missed this." He offered it to her and flinched as she snatched it from his hand. She glared at him and sneered.

"What do you want, Wonder-boy? Come to gloat about your new 'buddy?' Or were you wanting to see how the stupid bookworm was doing without you?"

"I didn't want to see you, I mean…" Harry fumbled over the words, squirming like a fish on a spit. "I did want to see you, but not like that. I wanted to apologize for what I said."

"It's a little late for that." Her voice was cold and brittle. It pained Harry to see the anger in her eyes. The only time he had seen her that angry was when she had fought with Malfoy.

"Even if it's late, I really mean it."

"Then you should not have said it in the first place. Apology not accepted."

Hermione turned on her heel, walked into the library and headed for a secluded corner. Harry followed her, shrugging off the insult. He tried to speak with her, but she ignored his feeble attempts to talk. Finally, when she reached a table, she slammed her books down on the surface and rounded on Harry.

"What do you want!" Several heads turned their way, drawn by the sudden outburst. The librarian scowled in their direction, but neither noticed. Hermione's hands clenched into fists at her sides, but Harry did not back down.

"I want to apologize." Harry repeated, straining to stay calm. His insides were turning a mile a minute. Sheer willpower alone kept his stomach from hurling what remained of his lunch on the floor. His whole body tingled with nervous energy as he looked into her eyes, eyes that showed nothing but anger and spite.

"You've already said that. I said no."

"Then I'm asking again."

Harry staggered backwards when her fist struck him across the jaw. He had not even seen her move, it just appeared there, striking him in the blink of an eye. Blood splattered across his mouth as several teeth broke. Harry fell back a few steps and gaped at her, stunned by the punch. He started to raise a hand to his aching jaw, but dropped it quickly. Hermione stared at him with a look of such fury that Harry actually thought about running. She looked as surprised as he was though. After a few seconds of uncertainty, she spat at his shoe and picked up her books, sweeping them purposefully off the table. She started back in the direction of the door.

Harry hurried ahead of her and stepped between herself and the door. He matched her frown determinedly and crossed his arms over his chest. Hermione glanced back over her shoulder and let out an exasperated sigh.

"You aren't making this easy," he said, wincing as his aching jaw moved. He resisted the instinct to rub it, not because he wanted to look tough, but to show that he was willing to accept more to get her to listen.

"Why should I? I'm not the one who started this." Hermione tried to go around him, but he cut her off, holding his arms out to each side of the door. She glanced around desperately, seeking a way around him. "Please get out of the way. You're attracting attention."

"Not until you accept my apology."

Hermione scowled and took a step back. "I've said no already. _Twice._"

"And I don't believe that." Harry allowed himself a smile as Hermione raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"_You_ don't believe that?"

"Not in the slightest." He leaned against one side of the door, grinning triumphantly. "And neither do you."

Hermione rolled her eyes and muttered something under her breath, but she made no move for the door. "What makes you think that I don't believe it?"

"If you did, you wouldn't still be here talking with me. You'd belong gone, back in the common room with me still bugging you."

"If you weren't in the way, that's right where I would be."

"You could get past me easily."

"Not without punching you again."

"So?"

Hermione's eyes flashed angrily and Harry bit his tongue. He had not meant to say that so flippantly. There was no doubt as to how she had taken that.

"So what! Do you think I make a habit of punching people? Do you think I do it for fun?"

"No."

"Really? You're not showing it."

"Hermione, please, just listen to me." Hermione rolled her eyes again and took a threatening step forward, but Harry held his ground. "I was not thinking when I yelled at you. I was just… with everything that happened that day, I lost control. I didn't mean half the things I said to people that that night. I even got in a fight with Ron."

"Yeah," she scowled darkly. "But I saw that you and him are chums again. Funny how that works, isn't it."

"That was different, Hermione."

"So I noticed. You got in a fight with him later and forgave each other earlier than me. I can put two and two together, Harry."

"But you don't know why he and I got in a fight."

"I don't care. It was probably about which of you hated me more anyway." Hermione pushed against his shoulder and he allowed her to move him out of the way. He winced as she started towards the dorm.

"Hermione, it-" Harry swallowed hard and forced himself to look into her eyes. "Ron got mad at me because I stood up for you."

Hermione stopped abruptly. Harry held his breath, wondering what she was thinking. She stood there for several seconds, not moving as she digested what he had said.

"You did what?" she asked hoarsely. Harry let out a sigh of relief and moved forward to face her.

"Ron started talking bad about you while he carried me to Madame Pompfrey's. I told him to stop, and he got mad at me. Said I was picking you over him. He accused me of liking you too much. He said that I was trying to go out with you, and that you and I were dropping him."

"And you stood up for me."

"Yeah, even though it hurt." He tried to smile, but the pain of moving his jaw froze his mouth. "Walking down the hallway with a blown shoulder gives pain a new definition."

"I didn't know," she spoke quietly. "If I had known…"

"Don't worry about it. I talked with Ron and explained what had happened and he apologized. We're good as new."

"I guess I did throw you to the wolves," she admitted after a momentary pause. "That was pretty selfish of me. I should have told you about that in the library."

"It doesn't matter. That's over with. What really matters is if you can forgive me for yelling at you. You didn't deserve that. After seeing Vandermine, I can understand why you hate him. I might not agree with you… at all… but I understand your position."

"Yeah…" she mumbled, staring at the floor.

"Come on, let's go to the dorm."

"Wait, there is one thing I need to do first, before I forgive you."

"What is it?"

Hermione's hand slapped him before he even realized she had moved it. Harry grinned ruefully and rubbed the spot on his cheek where she had hit him.

"Now I forgive you."

"You should do that to Malfoy sometime. You've got quite an arm."

Hermione giggled and handed her books to him. "That's a good idea. Carry my books for me, will you?"

"Sure." Harry took the books and glanced down at them. "Say… that brings up a question I've got for you."

"What is it?"

"Ron and I need your help finding a book."

Hermione sighed and turned around towards the library. "Why am I not surprised? Really, you two need to learn to use the library maps."

Harry grabbed her arm with his free hand and pulled her to the side of the corridor before she got out of his reach. He looked up and down the hall to see if anyone was around.

"We don't know what book it is that we need."

"Oh?" Hermione's eyes lit up like candles. If Harry knew one thing about her, it was that she loved looking for hard-to-find books. "Why so secretive?"

"We need to find a book about Vandermine."

Hermione bit her lip as she thought about the options. "That is going to be a bit of a problem. The Ministry burned all books on-"

"Yes, I know. Ron already told me that. That's why we need your help. We need to find a book, _any_ book that has information about him in it."

"Just what is it that you are looking for?"

"We need… we need to find a list of who he worked with in the past."

"That'll be quite a list, Harry. He was an Auror a long time, you know. There will be hundreds of associates."

"I know. But we are only looking for the women he worked with."

"That should narrow it by about a half. Wait a second," Hermione raised an eyebrow suspiciously. "What are you trying to find out?"

"It's complicated. I'll tell you when we're in the library."

They hurried through the library door. Hermione turned straight for the Biography Section as they cleared the welcome desk. Harry followed without a word, glancing nervously at the students sitting around the tables around them. As soon as they reached the first Biography row, they ducked into its cover. Hermione immediately started looking, scanning the names on the books.

"Let's see, V… _Vacuus Vespus_, _Vadine the Fool_, _Vampires_… nothing."

She stood up straight and crossed her arms, brow furrowing in concentration.

"I could have told you that, Hermione. It's pretty obvious that they wouldn't have a book on him here."

Hermione cast him a superior look and scoffed.

"Never overlook the obvious, Harry. The people that destroyed his books were bureaucrats. Chances are they missed a lot."

"Doubtful. Especially in a school."

"Still, it was worth a look."

Harry shrugged and glanced around at the rows of books surrounding them. "Any ideas where to look?"

"Lots. Help me look for McDouglass."

"McDouglass? As in Judder McDouglass?"

"Who else?"

"But why would we… oh, yeah that's right. They work together."

"So he would be a logical choice to look up."

"Right, let's find him."

They walked over to the _M_ section and looked at it quickly. While there had been few V names, there were hundreds of M's, especially Mc-something's. Harry groaned and shook his head.

"This will take forever."

"Not if we hurry." Hermione crouched down and started scanning the bottom rows. "Start from the top and I'll meet you halfway."

"Got it." Harry rubbed his aching jaw and craned his neck upwards. He sighed inwardly and began the arduous task of looking for the right. 'Mc' name.

"Why couldn't there have been less Scottish wizards?" he asked himself.

"Scotland has had a large share of them, hasn't it. Maybe it's the weather."

"Whatever."

They spent the next ten minutes looking in silence, concentrating on the task at hand. While Hermione sped through the rows easily, Harry found it hard to focus on the names. His eyes kept drifting away towards the pictures on the covers. They showed pictures of dragons and ancient battles and weapons. He found them fascinating.

"So…" Hermione said after the area around them had cleared of students. "Do you like me?"

"What?" Harry dropped the book he was holding with a jolt. The hardened leather cover hit his foot with a loud thwack. He bit his lip to hold in a yelp of pain and took a step away from the shelf.

"You heard me. Do you like me? What did you tell Ron?"

"I, uh, um…" Harry felt his cheeks growing red and he turned away from her quickly. "What was the question?"

"I just want a simple yes or no Harry."

"It's not exactly simple."

"But you can still tell me."

"You don't need to know."

"Like heck I don't need to know! It's only me whose the target of the question."

Harry bent down to retrieve the book he had dropped, but Hermione grabbed his arm and held him still.

"Yes or no, Harry. Whatever you say, I won't hold it against you."

Harry's heart leapt to his throat when he looked her in the eye. "I… I didn't actually answer the question."

Hermione shook her head, clearly not convinced. "But what would you have said?"

An awkward silence followed the question. Harry held her gaze unflinchingly, but his mind was racing inside. A thousand thoughts were pounding against his skull, all of them screaming yes. His tongue felt suddenly dry and rough as he stumbled over the words that were fighting to come out.

"No." he finally answered, cursing himself as he said it. "I would have said no."

"Oh." Hermione's eyes dimmed a little and she looked disappointed. "Figures."

"Uh… where were we? McDouglass?" Harry tore his gaze away from hers' and looked back up at the shelf. "Ah, found it."

He pulled the book from the shelf and flipped through the pages quickly. "This should work. Thanks Hermione." He turned to face her, but she was gone. Harry bit his lip and swore.

"Figures," he muttered under his breath. "Maybe I should have told her."

A quick look at the clock on the wall told him that he had to be back at the dorm soon. With the book in tow, he rushed through the halls and back into the security of the Gryffindor main room.

Author's note: Sorry it took me so long to post this. I'm not a romantic type (as you can probably tell), so this was a hard and grueling chapter to write. If you've got comments or ideas put them in a review.


	20. End Year 3

_He had plenty of equipment with him, thanks to the raid on his house. He could breathe easily. The Aurors would never find him, he would start again, start a new life. The US would be a good place, easy to hide and great opportunities. Maybe he could set up a business. No, that wouldn't do. He couldn't get into the military without his real ID, and then the Wizards would find him. Best to stay put, find a flat in London perhaps. From there he could plan his next moves. Moves that would not be dictated by the arrogant fools and their blasted magic._

Weeks passed and the school year ended. Harry, Ron and Hermione searched through dozens of books, but they could not find a single thing on Vandermine. They tried every name that they could connect with Vandermine, but everything came up empty. Harry and Ron were ready to give it up, but Hermione kept insisting on looking. Once they had explained his dreams to her, she had returned to the search with renewed fury, gathering books by the armload and burning through them like they were leaflets.

Vandermine returned from his trip just in time to find out that Black had escaped. He was furious that Sirius Black had shown up, slipped through the hands of the Ministry and escaped. When Ministry officials came to Hogwarts later and blamed his team for the mistake, he flew into such a fit of rage that the Ministry officials ran from the room and kept on going, not stopping until they were off of Hogwarts' grounds.

Everyone but Dumbledore stayed out of his way for the next two days. On the third day however, Harry, Ron and Hermione were walking to the library to drop off the last set of books they had checked out when they heard Dumbledore and Vandermine in the hallway.

"Sirius' capture is no longer a concern of yours, Lucas. He will no longer pose a threat to this school, or anyone in it."

"I couldn't care less about whether or not he is a threat to the school, Albus. He got past the entire school security _which_, I'm not bragging, is the tightest on the planet. I know, because I've been to them all. I want to find out how he got past it."

"Then your curiosity will have to go unsatisfied, at least for now. Forget about him, Lucas. You need not bother with him anymore."

"Albus, you're not listening! I don't care. I'm going the find him."

"Lucas, I must ask you not to do this. It would be a mistake."

There was a pause in the conversation, and they heard the two adults approaching from a connecting hallway. Thinking quickly, Harry rushed into a nearby classroom. Ron and Hermione dove in right behind him, closing the door just before Dumbledore and Vandermine turned the corner.

"What are you not telling me, Albus?"

"Not telling you something? What makes you think I am leaving you in the dark?"

"Why do you not want me to find Sirius Black. Of all people, I thought you would understand that he needs to be brought in. He murdered James and Lily! How can you let that go?"

Harry exchanged looks with Ron and Hermione. _He didn't know!_ Dumbledore had not told him.

"Lucas, what he did was horrible. Trust me when I say that he lives with that knowledge every moment of his life."

"Most people that betray their best friends to murderers feel guilty later, especially when they lose. He must have felt just awful after finding out that his new master got whacked by a baby."

"Lucas-"

"This is my last warning, Albus. I am going to go find him. My team will return to our headquarters until I return. If you need them, you know where to contact them."

One of the adults, presumably Vandermine, took off down the hallway. He had gone no more than ten steps when Dumbledore's voice interrupted his exit.

"Lucas, if you go, I will remove my protection."

The footsteps ceased, and Harry heard nothing for the next few seconds.

"Why am I not surprised?" Vandermine asked aloud. "I'm amazed it took you this long to pull that out for leverage. Blackmail does seem to suit you well."

"You know as well as I do that I do not want to do this, but if you take one more step, I will remove my voucher and you will once again be an outlaw."

"Being an outlaw never bothered me before. Why would it now?"

"You won't find out about her."

Harry shot Hermione a triumphant look. Maybe this was the mysterious woman that they had been looking for. Hermione returned the glance, smiling broadly. Harry turned to face Ron and stopped. Ron's eyes had opened wide and he pointed frantically at the door. Harry glanced at him then looked back at the door. The handle was turning slowly. They were coming into the room.

"Under the desk." Hermione pointed to a massive oak desk just across the room. It was easily large enough to hold all three of them. They turned as one and ran for it, leaping over it and huddling down beneath its cover.

The door swung open and Vandermine stalked into the room, followed closely by Dumbledore. Harry held his breath as the pair drew closer to the desk, but Vandermine abruptly stopped and spun to face Dumbledore.

"What do you want from me, Albus?"

Dumbledore sighed and shook his head like a father reproving a disobedient child. "I want nothing from you, except that you leave Sirius alone for now. You will meet him again in due time, I assure you."

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"You will understand when the time comes."

Vandermine swore and lunged for the desk. Harry barely had time to duck his head in before Vandermine's fisted crashed down onto the desk. The sturdy wood shuddered and groaned as his fist broke right through it and continued down, ending up right beside Ron's head. Ron swallowed hard and looked from the fist to Harry, who return his wide-eyed stare. He had just punched through six inches of hardened, sturdy oak.

"That's not enough, Albus. I want blood!" Vandermine yanked his hand free, tearing a wide hole in the wooden frame. "I want his blood, I want him dead, killed by the same curse that slew James and Lily."

Dumbledore did not reply, but instead strode over to the desk. He inspected the damage with a carefree air and waved his wand over the hole. The hole closed up and returned to the original state it had been in.

"Those are strong words, Lucas."

"Trust me, they get stronger."

"I can understand your hatred for James and Lily's betrayer. I too want him punished. He will be, by the proper authorities."

"Since when did you trust the Ministry with apprehending criminals?"

"Ever since you quit and criminals started returning alive, not as bullet-ridden corpses." Dumbledore's voice hardened, "You would be surprised with what good people can do when they try."

Vandermine swore again, but he thankfully held his fist back from the desk.

"You threatened me back in the hallway." Vandermine said after a pause. "You used her to stop me. I'll never forgive you for that."

"I didn't expect you would. Desperate times call for desperate measures, Lucas, and you forced my hand. I honestly would have preferred stopping you without bringing her into the mix, because her relation to you is complicated enough as it is."

"No kidding."

"Lucas, I understand what you are feeling right now-"

"No, you have no clue what I'm feeling."

"You are not the only one who has lost loved ones in the past."

"Don't start on that train, Albus. It's bull, all of it."

"Creating walls of anger around yourself will never give you the answers you seek. If you let it go, try to reconcile your past…"

"I can't do that, Albus. Anger is what's kept me alive for the past years."

"It is killing you."

"No, Albus. What's killing me is much worse than pure rage. You know that as well as I do."

"Perhaps. Let us continue this discussion in my office. We can get more privacy there."

"Alright, after you."

The two adults left the room quietly, but Harry could imagine the glare that Vandermine was directing Dumbledore's way. Once he was sure that the coast was clear, he edged out from under the desk. Ron gaped at the desk, running his hand over the spot where Vandermine had punched it.

"Blimey! He's as strong as a… bloody hell, that's impossible."

Hermione strode past him and checked the door. She locked it with a flick of her wand and turned to look at Harry.

"Vandermine doesn't know. What does that mean?"

Harry shrugged, unable to find a reason.

"Who knows? What does it matter, he'll never catch Sirius. Not with Dumbledore holding him back."

"You don't get it, Harry. Dumbledore hasn't told him the truth about Sirius. He still thinks that Sirius killed your parents. Why would Dumbledore do that? Why would he not tell the head of security who _he_ appointed?"

"He's got a good reason I'm sure."

"Like what?"

"I don't know, something."

"Harry, think! Most of the staff knows the truth. If he didn't tell Vandermine, that means he didn't trust him."

"Hermione, Harry."

"Not now, Ron." Hermione glared at him and continued. "Dumbledore doesn't trust Vandermine. And if he doesn't neither should we."

"Haven't we already gone over this? He put him in charge of the school's security. That takes a lot of trust."

"Hermione, Harry!"

"Shut up! Harry, Dumbledore mentioned a girl. It's got to be the same one we're looking for. He used her to stop him. She must be important to him."

"Harry!"

"Ron," Hermione rounded on him, sighing frustratedly. "What is it!"

"The door's opening."

Harry spun and dove for the door, but it was too late. The door swung open with a bang, and Vandermine strode in, wand in one hand, pistol in the other. Hermione shrieked in surprise and pulled out her wand, but Harry cut across and placed himself between them, wand aimed at Vandermine's chest.

In a flash the door was shut again, and he had his pistol trained on Harry's forehead. Harry froze, mind racing for a spell, anything that he could use. The barrel of the pistol, floating barely a foot from his face, distracted him though, and he could not think of anything. To his relief however, Vandermine holstered the pistol and lowered his wand, a scowl growing on his face.

"What are you kids doing in here?" he demanded, half-snarling in anger. "How much did you overhear?"

"We heard everything!" Hermione squeaked. She slipped around Harry and drew her wand, pointing it threateningly at his face. "Every word. Don't you dare do anything to us."

Vandermine barely gave her wand a second glance. His hand shot from his side like lightning, plucking it straight from her hands and tucking it into a sheathe. Hermione gaped at him for a second, staring at the spot where her wand had just been. Then she gave a terrified shriek and backed up, trembling visibly.

"You've got spunk, I'll give you that." He unsheathed her wand and handed it to Harry with a flourish. Harry took the wand silently and took a step back, placing himself out of his arm's reach.

"Fortunately for you, you're too valuable. I won't do anything, but don't do it again."

Harry let out a deep breath, and shook his head disbelievingly. "So all that he said was true. He's giving you his voucher. Otherwise you're a criminal."

Vandermine smiled darkly, eyes glittering dangerously. "One of the worst." He took a step forward and Harry took an involuntary step back, brushing against Hermione and the desk. "I've done stuff that you can't imagine, and I enjoyed every minute of it."

"You're a monster," Hermione took her wand from Harry and walked around Vandermine, never taking her eyes off of him as she headed for the door.

"And proud of it," he replied. Hermione reached for the handle, but he flicked his wand and the door handle faded from view. She grasped at it fruitlessly, trying to find the handle that was no longer there.

"So, what did you hear, Harry?" he asked casually, but his eyes glinted with danger. "Find anything interesting? Wondering why he's letting your parents' murderer go free?"

"He didn't murder them!" Harry blurted out. Hermione's eyes opened in alarm, and she shot him a warning look. Vandermine raised an eyebrow, weighing Harry's words carefully.

"True, if you're fighting for technicality." Harry sighed inwardly with relief as Vandermine shrugged. "Close enough by my standards though."

"Let us out." Hermione shook as she spoke, fighting to retain some measure of composure. "Let us out or I'll scream."

"No one would hear you, so don't bother." Vandermine waved his wand and the door handle returned to its position. Hermione grabbed the handle and yanked the door open. Sunlight flooded into the room. Vandermine winced at the light and swayed for a moment.

"You two can go," he pointed to Ron and Hermione. "Harry and I need to have a little talk. He'll be fine."

Hermione cast a worried glance at Harry and left the room, followed closely by Ron. Once they had left, Vandermine turned to face Harry. His face was perfectly calm. He pointed his wand at Harry and uttered something under his breath. The room flashed with a blue light and disappeared. Harry had a falling sensation in his stomach, and seconds later he landed on the wooden floor of Vandermine's office.

Vandermine walked around to his desk and sat down. He indicated a chair in front of his desk.

"Sit."

Harry stepped towards the chair nervously, thrown by the sudden change in his demeanor.

"Yes, I am still an outlaw," he said matter-of-factly as Harry slid into the chair. "If it weren't for Dumbledore, I'd still be an active felon, hunted by the Ministry and shunned by the Wizarding Community. The latter is still a problem, a problem that doesn't bother me in the slightest. The former however…" his voice trailed off ominously. "Killing Aurors never quite suited me, though I did get used to it after a while."

"Why are you telling me this?"

Vandermine leaned forward in his chair, cracking his knuckles quietly. The sound made Harry wince.

"Dumbledore has assigned me to provide for your security over the summer, if you accept it."

"What?"

"Trust me, I don't like it either. Guarding you would distract me from some personal business, but Dumbledore has… leverage in this issue. If you want me, I have to do it. If you don't, there's a small chance I can avoid it."

Harry sank back in his seat, mulling over the news.

"Why-"

"Dumbledore thought it best if I tell you first. If he did it, you might take it as a command or an order. If I tell you, it is clear that you've got a choice and you can say no."

"So he wants you to be my bodyguard."

"That's the gist of it, yes. We'd be invisible for the most part, but you would know that we'd be there."

"And you'd follow me everywhere?"

"Well, you probably won't be going anywhere anyway, now would you?"

"That's true."

"So it would be a boring and eventless job, so there's no need for me to be there."

"You really want me to say no, don't you."

"Obviously." Vandermine nodded slightly. "It benefit us both if you said no."

"Then no it is." Harry rose from his chair and moved for the door.

"One more thing, Harry." Vandermine stood up and motioned for him to come back. Harry nodded and returned to the chair.

"I've got a favor to ask of you."

"What?"

Vandermine's eyes hardened as he pulled out a scroll and handed it to Harry. Harry took the scroll and scanned it quickly. It was a list of the books that they had checked out from the library.

"Stop trying to uncover my past."


	21. Touring Vandermine's Office

_When the police came, the Muggle woman could only shrug helplessly as they asked about the man renting the flat above her shop. To be honest, she knew very little about him. He showed up at her door one day, asking about the flat above her shop. He had the cash already, so she had given it to him without a second's hesitation. Now, she was haunted by the man's presence. He disappeared for weeks at a time, leaving without a trace, and returning as suddenly as he left. She did not care too much, because since he had moved in crime rates had dropped drastically and known criminals started to show up dead on the local constable's doorstep. Somehow, she knew that he was connected to the killings. Thus, she was not surprised that police ended up on her doorstep, asking about her mysterious guest. But she could not help them, for she knew as little about him as they did._

Three weeks into his summer break and Harry had still not forgotten the image of Vandermine bursting into the room, weapons drawn. It was a terrifying picture, one that haunted him in his nights and plagued him when he was awake. In those few seconds Before Vandermine holstered his weapon, he was a ferocious machine, ready to kill on impulse; two minutes later he was calm and unconcerned. The ease with which he switched between the two unnerved Harry. Now he understood why Vandermine was such a dangerous man. He could have shot Harry, Ron and Hermione before any of them could have blinked, so fast was his entry. It was inhuman.

"What has Dumbledore gotten us into?" he asked aloud, staring at the pages of his journal. Images flashed from the past month rushed through his brain. What a way to end the school year. Sirius appearing and escaping, Vandermine almost killing them, Hermione punching Malfoy…

_She has a great arm_, he told himself repeatedly. _Draco was so surprised when she hit him. I wish I had a picture of it._

A heavy fist pounded on his door. Harry turned to the door slowly, wondering what Uncle Vernon, for that was the only person he knew of with such a meaty fist, wanted.

"Harry, you've got a visitor."

"What?" Harry took a step towards the door and frowned. He hadn't received letters or anything so far this summer. A visit was the last thing he had expected.

"Yes, Potter. A visitor! Get downstairs and get rid of him now."

Vernon's voice had a sense of urgency to it. His visitor must be a wizard then, and a man. Perhaps it was a Ministry official. Harry doubted that. Why would the Ministry send someone to his house?

"Coming." Harry exhaled sharply and grabbed his wand. After adjusting his glasses, he inched the door open and started down the hallway. He heard voices below. Uncle Vernon was trying to start a conversation with the guest, seeing if this one was as 'bloody wacked' as the others. Judging by the fact that his voice kept going, this one was not.

Harry mentally reviewed his list of acquaintances that could pass as Muggles. The list was very short, and the one that first came to mind sent chills up his spine. _Obviously a wizard, but passable as a Muggle:_ _Vandermine. Great, that's just what I need._

Harry rounded the stairwell and walked hesitantly down the stairs. He paused in shock though, as it was not Vandermine below in the hallway but Judder McDouglass. He looked like a special security guard, from the black suit he wore to the earpiece connected by a wire to a radio in his pocket. A slight bulge on his left chest told Harry that he had a gun.

"Harry, how are you." McDouglass asked cheerfully. He waved to Harry and pulled an envelope out of his jacket. "I've got a letter for you from your pal, Snuffles."

"Who is Snuffles?" Vernon asked casually, trying to gain some information. Judder cast him a bored glance and handed the letter to Harry.

"An escaped mass-murderer, if you want to know. He's a friend of Harry's."

Vernon blanched in terror and ran from the room, muttering about 'dangerous wizards' and the like. Harry watched him go with a chuckle and accepted the letter. His chuckle died in his throat when he realized who was handing him the letter.

"Vandermine didn't find him, did he?"

"No." Judder said quietly. "Dumbledore told me where to find him, and we… Kathryn and I have been giving him the news and sending him what he needs. He's a clever fellow, good at hiding and very resourceful. The hardest part of it is not letting Lucas catch on. He stopped looking, just like Dumbledore ordered, but he's been frustrated about it. He keeps tapping into the Ministry's communications to check for sightings of him."

Harry opened the envelope with his wand and read the letter quickly. It was short, mainly just explaining how Sirius was doing and his hopes that one day he would be exonerated so they could live as a family. There were also some postcards from where he had been over the past weeks. The Caribbean, Bahamas, Australia, and some European country that he didn't recognize. The letter made no mention of Vandermine.

"So Vandermine hasn't found him. He still doesn't know, does he?"

Judder shook his head and sighed. "If he did, he'd probably snap."

Harry gave him a confused look, but Judder just nodded.

"You can't possibly imagine how fragile his sanity is right now. Once his family was murdered and he was caught at the Lestrange's-"

"It's okay, he told me about Bellatrix."

"Well, he's carrying more guilt and responsibility right now than any man should. He can't escape the guilt about what he did, or what he thinks he did. It's driving him insane, I think. Right now rage is about the only thing that keeps him from killing himself."

"What?'

"Yeah, I doubt anyone's told you about that. He's on suicide watch right now."

"He is?" Harry blinked in surprise. Vandermine was so strong, so powerful. He looked anything but suicidal. "How long has he-"

"Ever since we found him again. He's tried it twice, but we stopped him each time."

"That's sad. How do you watch him?"

"It's not as bad as it sounds. He never came close either time. I know him well enough to know that he'd never actually pull the trigger. He'll load the gun, sure, but he won't kill himself. He'd never abandon us like that. He is too honorable to do that."

"At the risk of sounding cold, that's a pretty casual attitude about it. If he's suicidal, he should be seen by a doctor."

"We tried that. The doctor came up empty. No, Lucas is struggling with more than normal pain. His family's been murdered, he betrayed his friends, he is an inhuman creature."

He paused when Harry cleared his throat for an explanation.

"I thought you already knew that. Outrider had become so corrupted by his own Dark Magic that he used to keep himself alive, that his blood became poisonous. When he bit Lucas during their fight, after the vampires had already gotten him, Lucas had three different liquids flowing through his body. His blood was destroyed by the vampire's disease and Outrider's poison. The poison fought the diseased blood though, and it still is. Half his blood is laden with the vampire's disease, the other half is werewolf blood. The poison in the blood is keeping the bloods balanced, so neither one can gain control of him. He's stuck as part vampire and part werewolf until either he dies or that poison gets drained from his body. With the poison gone though, all that blood that's been held in check will explode like a broken dam, killing him anyway. Either way, he'd die."

"So he's stuck."

"Yeah, but every year his creature traits are becoming easier to control. It's just when he loses it, and transforms, bad things happen. Most werewolves and vampires have some semblance of control once they transform. He just goes wild. We have a special room that we lock him in when he transforms, just to be safe. He built it himself, so there is no way he can get out of it or we can get in it unless he is recovered."

Harry shuddered as he thought about what Judder said. "I feel sorry for him."

"Don't tell him that. He can't stand it when people feel sorry for him. It makes him feel weak and helpless."

"Alright."

"Yeah, well," Judder tilted his head to the side and touched his earpiece. "Our ride is here. Want to come?"

"Where are we going?"

"Lucas is offering a tour of our facilities to a select few people, wizards only. You're invited to attend."

"Will anyone else be there?"

"Some of the Weasley men and Neville Longbottom are going, and Kathryn is at Hermione Granger's house convincing her to come as we speak.. Other than that, it will be Ministry officials and some Aurors."

"That's it?"

"Yeah." Judder opened the door and bowed slightly. "After you."

Harry walked out the door, wondering what he was getting himself into. There was a small Ford Explorer parked out front, completely empty. He glanced back at Judder, who was shutting the door behind them.

"Did you drive this?"

"Yes. Do you like it? It's a workhorse." He strode past Harry and opened the passenger door. "Hop in."

Harry entered the car carefully. When he drove with the Dursley's, it was always the back seat for him. He had never been in the passenger seat before. The feeling felt good, sitting in the front of the car for once.

"Buckle up and here we go." Judder eased down on the gas and the car took off, accelerating smoothly until the Dursley's house was gone from sight. Harry stared out the window as they drove, watching the houses and trees fly past. It was exhilarating to be able to experience the speed of a car like this.

"How far away is your headquarters?"

"Not too far. Near Diagon Alley."

"What's it look like?"

"You are full of questions, aren't you."

"Sorry." Harry sank back in his seat, chagrined by his calm demeanor. "Just curious."

"That's fine. It's a pretty big building. Six stories, marble walls, large entryway."

"How do you hide that from the Muggles?"

"We don't. To Muggles, our company is technically a PMC, or independent security force. We take jobs from dozens of countries."

"How do you keep them from finding out about your magic?"

"The building is swept every hour for surveillance devices. All of our missions are recorded and stored in a safe that no one can enter without a wand. When asked how we do our missions, we just don't tell them. 'Trade Secret.' Works like a charm. Most of our employers couldn't care less how the job gets done as long as it's done quietly and without trails."

"That's got to be hard."

"Not really. We've got twenty men in the company, but everyone thinks we have hundreds of operators. We encourage the rumor. Life's easier that way, with intelligence spooks chasing down imaginary operatives and such instead of concentrating on the few we actually have."

"How many missions do you handle?"

"Typically its twenty or so a year. We never send more than a dozen men out at a time. That way we can keep up appearances as being a large group."

"What all do you do, on your missions?"

"A little bit of everything. We've assassinated terrorists, assaulted strongholds, guarded buildings, anything that you'd need a gunman for. Our work is purely mercenary. Check that, we'll take anything that has us shooting at bad guys. When terrorists show up asking for help, we juts bag them and hand them over to US SOCOM."

"They've done that?"

"Twice. After the second one, an Al-Qaeda commander, they realized it was stupid. It was fun while it lasted though."

"You guys must be earning a lot then, doing this stuff."

"Millions per mission. Our employers pay well for our work, mainly because we've never failed, and never will."

"Have you ever lost anyone?"

"Not one. We've all gotten wounded, but we've never had an operative die."

"That's lucky."

"To some. Actually though, Lucas invented a spell that can stop bullets. The spell gives the skin a layer that absorbs the energy from a bullet. The bullet hits the layer, loses its energy and drops. It'll last as long as you can concentrate on it."

"Amazing."

"Yeah. You should have seen the looks on some of the terrorists' faces when they shot us in the head and we kept on going."

Harry could almost imagine that look. He wondered how long those men had lived after realizing that their shots had no effect.

"Judder, can I ask you a question?"

"Haven't you been asking them for the past ten minutes?"

"I mean a personal question. About Ms. Stringer."

"You can call her Kathryn. Go ahead. I'll tell you anything you want to know about her that she would let me."

"Is she really a veela?"

"Half-veela. Her mother was a pure veela, but her dad was a wizard. Why?"

"Just wondering. Ron told me she was, but I wanted to make sure. Every time she looks my way…"

"She does that to pretty much everyone. She can turn her charm on and off like a switch. She's not much older than you, actually. She's only twenty-two."

"Are you serious?" Harry's jaw dropped in astonishment. "She looks a lot older."

"Part of her veela blood. They reach full maturity at the age of thirteen. They also live longer, typically for one hundred and twenty years."

"Wow."

"She's too old for you."

"I wasn't going to ask." His cheeks reddened from the comment and he ducked his head into his arm, faking a cough. Judder just smiled and nodded his head.

"Didn't think you would either."

Neither spoke for the next few minutes. Judder concentrated on navigating through the heavy traffic while Harry gazed out the window at the passing sites. He had never realized before how large London was. The city went on for miles, stretching farther than he could see. It was an awesome sight.

"Does Kathryn really love Vandermine?"

Judder slammed on the brake, swerving around a corner and into an alleyway. The car jerked to a halt so quickly that Harry was thrown forward in his seat. The seatbelt dug into his neck, choking him. Then the car settled back and he fell against the seat, gasping for breath.

"What was that for?"

"Sorry," Judder checked the rearview mirror and groaned. He put the car in park and placed his hands on the dashboard. "That's a touchy subject."

"I'm sorry for asking then."

"It's okay. If you knew that much you might as well know all of it." He took a deep breath and switched off the car.

"Yes, she loves him. She's been obsessed with him ever since she first met him."

"When was that?"

"Four years ago. Her village in Germany had been attacked by vampires. Lucas and I were in the area on business at the time, so we went to investigate. We found the village and tracked the vampires back to their lair. There was a whole clan of them, twenty or so complete with a patriarch. Lucas and I fought our way in, looking for survivors. It was a pretty ugly sight. The vampires had been taking the villagers one at a time. Instead of each one taking one for a few weeks, all twenty-some of them used one per meal. That much blood loss killed the person. All that would be left was the dried out husk, too little for even the vampire's curse to infect."

"That's horrible." Harry tried to picture what that would look like, but gave up. It was too gruesome.

"She was one of the handful of villagers that hadn't been bitten yet. We grabbed her and the other survivors and escaped. The others fled to the neighboring villages afterwards, but she refused to leave us. She followed us through the country. We caught her skulking around our camp several times, and each time Lucas drove her away, but she kept coming back. In the end, and against my judgment, Lucas knocked her out and left her with a Wizard family in Paris."

"No surprise there."

"No kidding. Anyway, we traveled back to London and established our company. At first we did very little, having only two operatives. But then a pack of Lucas' former students showed up one day. They signed up and we got the business going full speed. In months we had established a reputation as a powerful and efficient PMC."

"Where'd she come back in?"

"She arrived on our doorstep three years ago. She wanted a job, and I signed her up before Lucas even knew she had arrived. He was mad about it, but I think he was secretly impressed with her determination. Originally he gave her a desk job, but she ended up getting an operations badge when we were short on people and needed a team to go to the Congo. She volunteered so we took her. She proved very useful in gaining information that we needed. Thanks to her we accomplished the mission without having to kill anyone."

"That's good."

"The problem started when she began requesting missions with Lucas. He was fine with it, we figured she wanted to be with a more experienced operative. One year later though, she was still requesting missions exclusively with Lucas, and she had put in several advances on him. When Lucas and I realized she was infatuated with him, we stopped sending her on missions and put her back behind a desk. Eventually, she managed to tone it down, and we allowed her to go on missions again, but she never got rid of it. She's head over heels for him, and we haven't been able to do a thing about it. He's tried saying no, but she won't take any answer but a yes."

"Why doesn't he say yes?"

"Who knows? Loyalty to his dead family, thinks she's too young, it could be anything. He is in his forties after all, and he's never gotten over losing his family, obviously."

"So what's the situation now?"

"She's one of his top aides, a position where we can keep an eye on her and where she can put her skills to best use. She hasn't been as obvious this year, but she's still trying."

"She must have a lot of patience."

"Not enough. This infatuation is bad for her. It's disrupting her life and creating tension in the company. Every time Lucas says no, it breaks her heart. I've caught her in crying in closets more times than I can count. He's not trying to do it, but Lucas is hurting her a lot. He's tried to persuade her to stop, but there's nothing he can do, except to say yes. He won't do that, for her sake and his."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, if they get married, it would cause more problems than it would solve. You can't do this work while worrying about how your spouse is doing on some other mission. Distractions like that get people killed. One of them would have to give up their job, and it wouldn't be him. If she gets hurt or dies, it'll be like his family's murder all over again. He's not willing to risk that pain again. Even if the company wasn't an obstacle though, he'd never return her feelings like she wants him to. He's stuck in his past."

"So, she's in a lose-lose situation. So is Vandermine."

"Yeah." Judder turned the key in the ignition and the car roared back to life. "Don't tell Lucas or Kathryn that we had this conversation."

"Right."

Judder proceeded through the alley and exited onto the road. Their car moved smoothly through the traffic, weaving through life water. They drove for five minutes before Judder pointed at an upcoming building.

"There she is. Home sweet home." He pulled the car onto a side road and entered the parking lot. Harry noted that the guard at the gate was armed with a submachine gun. The guard scanned Judder's ID card and waved them in with a friendly smile. Judder parked the car in the executive parking and turned the car off. He hopped out of the car and started for the door. Harry followed quickly, matching his pace as they walked through the lot.

They entered through a set of double doors and were greeted by the security team. Instead of the Muggle metal detectors, two guards carried long orange wands that glowed a faint red. As they waved the wands in front of Harry, he felt a curious tingling sensation. The hairs on his arms stood on end as the wands passed. When the guards dropped the wands to their sides, the sensation left and his nerves calmed down.

"You're clear." The lead guard announced. "Welcome to the HQ, Mr. Potter."

Judder nodded his approval to the guards and strode towards the elevators. Harry hurried to keep up, glancing around at the building's interior. The walls were painted pure white, with no ornamentation or decoration of any kind. The result made the place look clean and spacious. It was creepy how white the room was.

"Here we go," Judder said as he stepped into an elevator. "Visitor's entrance, Second Floor. Everyone else should be there by now."

Harry felt his stomach lurch as the elevator rose up. A feeling of apprehension clawed at his mind. The last time he had seen Vandermine, he had been staring down the barrel of a pistol. The doors slid open with a hiss, revealing the room beyond. He swallowed hard when he saw the crowd of wizards huddled by the main desk. There were well over twenty of them, many of them famous wizards that Harry had read about before. They all stopped what they were doing and turned to look at him as he left the elevator. He heard them muttering under their breaths.

"Harry, you made it!" Neville appeared from the middle of the crowd, Fred, George and Ron right behind him. "For a while we thought you weren't coming."

"Fred and George were betting that you wouldn't show up." Ron grabbed him by the arm and pulled him through the crowd, squeezing through the throng of older wizards. They emerged on the other side in front of a large marble desk. Kathryn Stringer was seated behind the desk, wearing a typical secretary outfit. She greeted him warmly, shaking his hand vigorously.

"Where's Hermione?" he asked, not seeing her anywhere.

"She declined the invitation." Kathryn replied. She shook her head slightly and laughed. "Busy with schoolwork."

From the strained way she said 'schoolwork,' Harry realized that Hermione's reason was anything but schoolwork. She was probably still getting over the end-of the-year confrontation with Vandermine.

"Ah." Harry accepted the lie for what it was and nodded his head. "Already got her nose in the books."

"She told me to say hello."

"Anything else?"

"Nothing fit for civilized company, if you're asking about Lucas."

"That's Hermione for you. At this rate she'll never start liking him." Ron elbowed Harry on the arm and pointed to a large set of double doors past the desk. "He's in there, finishing up a meeting with the Americans."

"The Americans?"

"Yeah. There're some special forces soldiers in there. They're part of…" Ron's brow furrowed in concentration as he racked his memory for the name. "Demo Force?"

"Delta Force." Kathryn returned to her seat behind the desk and put on a headset. "The meeting is over. He's coming out now."

The doors behind the desk opened and Vandermine strode out, wearing a business suit. He approached the crowd of wizards slowly, looking each one in the eye as he neared them. The wizards quieted down and watched him expectantly.

"I welcome you, members of the Ministry. It is good to see you here Sorry about the delay. Let's begin, shall we."

Vandermine indicated the doors behind him. "In there is the meeting room, where all of our business is done. It is completely soundproof and has multiple surveillance devices placed at strategic points in the room. Please follow me."

The crowd of wizards trouped into the room, whispering quietly amongst themselves. Harry, and the other teenagers started to follow, but Kathryn halted them with an outstretched arm.

"Hold it guys, that's the wrong way. You guys get the real tour. That's Judder in there. He is just giving them the rough tour to keep them happy."

The wall to the right of the desk shifted and a door appeared. The real Vandermine appeared beside the door and gave a short wave.

"Let's go." He whispered. "Before they come back."

Fred and George whispered something that Harry could not hear, but he understood the gist of it. Another idea for a prank, probably.

They hurried through the doorway, staying silent until they had all entered and the door had shut behind them. Vandermine cleared his throat to get their attention.

"Welcome to the real HQ." he waved his arm wide to indicate the room they were standing in." This is the entryway. On our right is the armory, on the left is the planning room and Sim-room. Straight ahead is the vault, where we store all our recordings. Where do you want to go first?"

"The armory," Ron blurted before the others could respond. "I heard you've got a whole collection of dueling wands in there."

"Among other things, yes." Vandermine looked to the others for approval. They nodded their heads in agreement. "Okay, go on in."

Harry and Neville exchanged nervous looks. Neither of them knew exactly what the word 'armory' meant, but it sounded dangerous. Ron just pushed past them and headed for the door. They followed him timidly, wondering what was inside. The door swung open as they approached. Harry took a deep breath and entered, praying that he was making a good choice.

The sight inside took his breath away. He had seen a lot of guns in Vandermine's office, hung from pegs on the walls, but he had never seen this many. The room was easily the size of Hogwart's Great Hall. There were thousands of guns in the room. The walls were covered with rifle cases organized by the countries of origin. Some of the countries had only a handful of different weapons, others had hundreds. The United States section alone covered almost half of one wall. Every ten feet or so the walls recessed so that crates of extra weapons could be stored out of the way. Containers of ammunition were placed at the corners of the room, located near the weapons that used the same caliber rounds for easy access. At least fourteen different calibers of bullets were spread amongst the containers. Looking past all that, to the back wall, he saw crates of explosives lined up neatly in stacks that reached halfway to the ceiling. Twenty different explosive projectile weapons were placed neatly on a long table in front of the wall, aligned with the weapon's ammunition stacked behind it. The weapons ranged from a pair of small handheld grenade launchers to a humongous tripod-mounted rocket launchers. The rockets fired by that one were almost as long as Harry was tall.

While the display was impressive, it was the tables in the middle of the room that drew his real attention. Two long steel tables stretched from one end of the room to the other, displaying dozens of wands and swords. Harry saw Roman short swords, English rapiers, and even Japanese sais in the long rows of blades lining the northern table. On the other table were a host of wands and other magical weapons. Dueling wands dominated the center of the table, but on the far side were a range of potions and magic components that Harry had never seen before. Chimera hairs, dragon teeth and dozens of other foreign objects that he could not recognize were spread in rows along the table. The sight was overpowering.

"This is where we store our equipment between missions. As you can see, we've got a lot of it." Vandermine strode past them into the room and swept his arm in a semicircle across the room. "We buy this many weapons for flexibility. Frankly, we'll never use them all, but if someone wants someone assassinated and wants a specific group blamed for it, we just find out what guns they use and grab our own versions of them. It makes the job easier."

Harry nodded absently. He walked over to the wand-table and started reading the plaques beside each wand. The plaques held the names of who had wielded the wands. There were some famous names, but none too famous. Harry recognized many of them from on Vandermine's wall. Most of them had been taken from dead Death Eaters.

"There's a target range in there if you want to try out anything. We've got plenty of ammunition."

Harry stayed at the wand-table while the others looked around the room. Every once in a while he heard someone ask Vandermine a question about one weapon or another. They all drifted towards different sections of the room. Fred and George crowded around the magical items, thinking up various uses for them in future pranks. Ron wandered among the sword displays, gazing in wonder at the many different types of swords. Neville seemed to be the only one interested in the guns. He and Vandermine walked up and down the sides of the room, examining different guns. From the snatches of conversation that Harry overheard, Neville was finding the guns that his parents had used on one particularly nasty mission that they had been on.

As Harry studied the wands, he felt himself drawn unconsciously towards the middle of the display. Of the entire display of wands, only one was locked away. It was a large wand, easily two feet across and a half-inch thick. When Harry touched the glass case, the air inside the case wavered faintly. Before he could pull his hand back, his mind was assaulted by a wave of emotions. He stepped back with a strangled cry, clutching at his scar, which flared angrily. Vaguely, he was aware of some kind of intelligence forcing its way into his mind.

_Harry_.

The wand shook under the casing. Harry stared at it hard, wondering what was going on.

_Harry,_ the voice repeated. _I have waited a long time for you_.

Harry rubbed his eyes and looked at the wand again. The wand was shining faintly now. An urge to claim the wand started pushing at his hand, moving it closer to the case.

_Let me out of here. Think of what we could do. Think of the power that you could wield through me. With me at your hand, you could become the most powerful wizard in history!_

His hand grabbed at the lock on the case. The lock was solid steel. It wouldn't budge.

_Use your wand_. _Unleash me from this cursed case._

"Harry!"

The intelligence withdrew back into the wand, removing its hold on Harry. He looked around quickly, realizing that everyone was staring at him. Vandermine strode up to him and gently pushed him away from the case.

"I forgot to mention that. Stay away from that wand, it's intelligent."

"No kidding." Harry took a couple steps backwards and rubbed his aching head. "That thing just jumped into my mind."

"Yeah, it does that. Had a nasty owner, and some of his taint spread to it before he died."

Harry glanced down to read the plaque. _Johannes Outrider_. No wonder it had been so powerful.

"Why do you have it here? Shouldn't it be locked up somewhere safe?"

"We tried that, but it didn't work. It corrupted the guard we set on it. If it weren't for the fact the troll was too large to get to the wand, it would have taken it and who knows what would have happened."

"So… you just leave it here then?"

"No. I use it most of the time."

"What? You use it?"

"It doesn't affect me." Vandermine unlocked the latch on the case and rapped it twice with his other wand. The lid popped open with a hiss as compressed air shot out. For a brief second the intelligence came rushing back at Harry, but it was jerked backwards with a scream of rage when Vandermine picked up the wand. He paid it no more than a passing glance before sliding it into one of the many hidden sheathes in his coat.

"That should shut it up for a while. Let's move on to the next room."

They filed out of the room quietly, exchanging information about what they had seen. Ron had seen a particularly fascinating longsword from the Middle Ages that had been enchanted so that it created ice when it struck solid surfaces. It had been used by dragon hunters in Germany. The sword sounded amazing, but Harry was too busy thinking about Outrider's wand to pay much attention.

_He's carrying an evil sentient wand. Doesn't he realize that it could be affecting him? Maybe that's why he is always so angry._

"Here's the Sim-room." Vandermine opened the door and waved for them to go in. They entered this room more confidently than they had entered the armory, expecting something similar. To their surprise though, the room was completely empty. Everything was painted a uniform gray. The uniformity of the room made it hard to judge where the floor and ceiling ended and where the walls began. For all Harry knew, the far wall was a mile away.

"What do you do in here?" Ron asked, craning his neck as he tried to gauge the distances in the room. "It empty."

"Not as empty as you would think." Vandermine reached out past them and struck the near wall with his wand. A small portion of the wall dissolved away, revealing a white door and a large viewing glass. "That's our observation room. Go on inside."

The observation room was small compared to the other rooms, but it was far from the least interesting. Banks of computer monitors and fancy-looking machines lined the back wall. Harry gave the monitors a closer look and saw that they were all connected to cameras placed in the adjacent room. They gave him a complete view of the room. Beside each monitor was a joystick and a small keyboard. He guessed those were the camera controls.

"This is where our mission simulations are observed and critiqued. While one team runs the mission in there," he indicated the room they had come from, "the other teams watch and take notes."

"How do you simulate it if there's nothing in there?"

"That room is equipped with prototype holographic projectors. We can create whatever scenario we want just by punching in a few buttons into the main computer. Type in either the coordinates or the scenario and the room will be configured to fit. It can even do time periods."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Go ahead, type one in."

Harry, Ron and Neville approached the main computer slowly, discussing what they should do. There were so many choices.

"Let's do an old fashioned one. Middle Ages."

Neville nodded in agreement. "Sounds good, but where?"

"I've got a better idea." Ron turned towards Vandermine. "Can you do fantasy stuff?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know, like orcs and goblins."

"Yes, it can do that. Just select Fantasy under the main settings."

Ron looked back to Harry and Neville, grinning broadly. "I want to see him in action. Let's do it."

Harry nodded his head in agreement. Frankly, he had already seen Vandermine in action before. He was unnervingly fast and strong. This way however, they would see him killing monsters, not humans. It was not as creepy that way.

"Here we go, Fantasy, woodlands, orcs." Ron pressed the corresponding keys and the room warped before their eyes. The walls and floor disappeared. In their place appeared trees and bushes and long grass. The scene looked completely realistic.

"And here we go." Vandermine opened the door to the Sim-room and pulled out a dueling wand. Harry recognized it as the same one he had used during their tryouts for the Dueling Club. "Anyone want to come out too, or do you all want to watch?"

When none offered to accompany him, Vandermine shrugged and went out the door. It slid shut behind him, settling into place with an ominous clack. Data started scrolling across the main screen as the holographic computer analyzed the new arrival.

"Threat level 10 detected. Supplying adequate hostile forces."

"What do you think that means?" Ron asked Harry. Harry shrugged helplessly.

"I have no idea. I'm pretty sure we're about to find out though."

"Shh." Neville elbowed them both to get their attention. "Where'd Vandermine go?"

Everyone stopped talking and looked at the monitors. Vandermine had disappeared. They scoured the viewscreens, searching for a glimpse of him. After a minute of searching, they gave up.

"Oh well, he'll show up in a few minutes anyway."

"Why do you say that?"

"The orcs just showed up."

Neville pointed out into the forest. A troupe of orcs were making their way through the brush, moving cautiously from point to point. They were hideous. Each orc was tall and lean, with leathery skin and fanged mouths that dripped venom every time they breathed. Their weapons were a motley collections of blades and clubs; only a handful of their swords actually looked clean. Their armor was no better. Some wore animal skins and loincloths, others wore heavy plate mail. They moved in a rough circle, staying close together for support. The ones on the outer edges poked at the underbrush with their swords, as if they were searching for someone; Vandermine, probably.

"Look, there he is!" Ron grabbed Harry's arm to get his attention. Harry followed the direction of his outstretched arm and saw a flash of red in a large tree above the orcs. "He's going to jump them."

They watched silently as the orcs moved in around the tree. One or two of them glanced up at the tree, but none of them noticed Vandermine as he crouched in the upper branches. They plodded on, oblivious to the shadowy figure crouching in the leafy boughs above their heads.

Then, just as the group's center reached the tree, Vandermine struck. He leapt from his place and plummeted downwards towards the surprised orcs. His wand flashed in a silvery arc and the nearest orc tumbled away, clutching its bleeding throat. Vandermine moved the instant he hit the ground. Spinning on one leg to keep his balance, he dodged a hastily thrown spear and brought his wand up to deflect a sword strike. In the same movement his other leg lashed out and caught the sword-bearer in the face. The orc stumbled backwards, grunting in pain, but Vandermine reached it before it hit the ground. His wand flashed red as it slid across the orc, leaving a trail of fire across its chest. The orc screeched in pain and fell to the ground. The flames consumed it in seconds, burning it to death.

Two orcs rushed at Vandermine's exposed back, thinking to bring him down from behind. Vandermine fell backwards into a roll as their blades swept in and came up between them. His wand flashed twice and the orcs fell lifelessly to the ground, their heads separated from their shoulders. A third orc approached him from the side, keeping its blade out defensively. Vandermine knocked the blade aside with a powerful swing and stabbed it in the heart. The orc groaned in protest and collapsed across its headless companions.

Four orcs remained alive. They faced Vandermine cautiously, staying close to each other for support while advancing steadily on him. He faced them all with a determined glare. The middle two orcs held their ground just a few feet in front of him, keeping him occupied while the other two circled to either side of him. He allowed them to fully encircle him, not once taking his eyes off of the two orcs facing him. Once they were all in position he moved like lightning. His wand moved so quickly that it appeared as one continuous flash. The four orcs stayed upright for a second, swaying in the wind, then they toppled over onto the grass, shock etched on their faces.

Vandermine sheathed his wand and the room dissolved back to its original, grey form. Everyone was speechless when he entered the observation room.

"That's what we do in here. We're running out of time, so lets head to the vault."

The kids nodded dumbly and followed him out of the room. As the door slid shut behind them, Ron turned to Harry, awe still on his face.

"Did you see that? He's amazing."

"Yeah." Harry muttered. When Ron looked away he added under his breath, "deadly amazing."

The final room was the smallest of the three. A row of filing cabinets lined the back wall and that was it. Harry felt slightly disappointed. This looked like it would be a boring end to the tour.

"This is where we store our mission records. Is there anything you want to see?"

Harry glanced dubiously at the file cabinets. "What do you have?"

"Everything. Every mission, every interview, every operation."

"Do you have your battle with Outrider?" Neville walked up to one of the cabinets, labeled _Non-work_. "I told Harry I'd show him that one."

Vandermine's expression soured, but he said nothing. He aimed his wand at the cabinet and whispered a command that none of them could hear. The cabinet slid open to reveal a line of clear goldfish-like bowls. Each bowl was full of a shining liquidy substance that swirled in circular patterns through the bowl.

"Pensieves," Ron explained to Harry, who was staring in wonder at them. "That's a lot of them."

One of the Pensieves rose from its place in the drawer and glided over to the table. They gathered around it eagerly, searching the images as they swirled in and out of focus in the bowl. Vandermine stabbed his wand into the middle of the bowl and muttered something, probably a password. The liquid ceased flowing and solidified, leaving one image at the top of the bowl.

"Here it is," Vandermine grunted. "I'll let you do this one on your own."

Neville nodded his thanks to Vandermine and turned to face the others. "Here we go. Just concentrate on the image."

Harry's eyes flicked from Vandermine's face to the image in the bowl. Vandermine returned his gaze with an angry grimace. Then Ron nudged Harry in the shoulder.

"Come on, here we go."

Harry tore his eyes away from Vandermine and looked back at the Pensieve. The image in the bowl started to move, growing larger and becoming clearer until it filled Harry's vision, although he was still an arm's length away. He felt a peculiar falling sensation in his stomach and the image rushed towards him. He closed his eyes and surrendered his mind to the image, allowing it to fill his mind…


	22. Werewolves and Vampires

Author's Note: This chapter is extremely gory and bloody, so don't read it if you have a weak stomach. Seriously. It's pretty bad.

Harry landed gently on the forest floor. He glanced to his left and right, making sure that the others had come in too. They were all staring at the trees around them, trying to find their bearings. He took a step forward and planted his foot down softly to test the ground. It was firm and wet, as if it had rained the night before and the ground had soaked up the water. He took another step to assure himself that the ground was safe and exhaled loudly. _So far so good. Where are we?_

The trees surrounding the teenagers were some of the largest he had ever seen in his life. Standing next to them made him small. Their trunks were wider than he was tall, and the branches that started ten feet off the ground had leaves the size of his head. He wondered where on Earth they were. He had never heard of trees this big before. The Whomping Willow wasn't half the size of these behemoths.

"Harry, Ron, Fred, George, over here!"

Harry turned towards the voice and saw Neville a ways off, sitting by a ledge, waving urgently to them. They started off towards him, picking their way carefully through the jutting roots and overhanging branches. Neville was not far off, but the forest floor was so cluttered that it took them much longer than it should have. Fred and George kept tripping, whether by accident or design, and Ron and Harry had to stop to help them up several times. On one of those times Fred scared Ron with an exploding snake that he had placed as he fell. Neville warned them to stay quiet though, so they hushed and hurried to catch up with him.

"Where are they?" Ron asked as they approached Neville's position. Neville put a finger to his lips and pointed downwards from the ledge. In the clearing were three figures. Two of them Harry didn't recognize, but the third was unmistakably a younger Vandermine. He looked bright and cheerful, something that boggled Harry's mind as he stared at the youthful face below them. From the way he paced about the clearing, eyes darting to and fro, Harry could tell he was anxious for the duel. The other two, Frank and Alice Longbottom, were standing side by side, watching him concernedly.

"We got here in plenty of time," Neville whispered. "You'll get to hear what they said before the duel.

"Can they see us?" Harry asked carefully, fingering the Invisibility cloak in his pocket. "Should we hide?"

"No, Harry, we're fine.," Ron answered, giving him a look of mild amusement. "We're watching his memory. We could jump up and down right in front of them and they wouldn't notice us."

"Amazing what we can do with magic," Harry muttered to himself.

"Quiet, here they go."

Frank Longbottom patted Alice on the arm and detached himself from her grip. He strode over to Vandermine, who was busy scouring the skies with his eyes. He did not notice Frank until the older wizard's arm descended lightly on his shoulder.

"You are impatient, my friend," Frank began. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Johannes needs to be stopped," Vandermine replied. "Surely you of all people realize how necessary this is."

"We could leave, Lucas. You do not need to fight him here. Why not wait, and fight him on our own ground? It would be much wiser to fight him with more allies behind us."

"I can't do that." Vandermine shook his head disapprovingly. "I issued the challenge, so I am honor-bound to keep it. To do otherwise would be shameful and cowardly."

"Challenges are no longer a sacred pact, Lucas. You know that as well as I do. The Ministry removed the laws in an effort to prevent this very situation. It is foolish to duel him here."

"Foolish?" Vandermine removed Frank's arm from his shoulder. "You said yourself that I have the best chance of beating him. He killed a whole team of Aurors on his own. Imagine what he could do with his servants at his side. We need to end this now, right here, right now."

"Lucas, listen to me. I said that back in England, when we had not met him yet. He is far beyond any of our abilities. No five of the Aurors back home could bring him down."

"That may be true, but I've got a plan." Vandermine reached into his jacket and produced a pair of pistols. "Silver bullets, my friend. They'll kill him before he can fire off the first spell."

"You put too much trust in Muggle weapons, Lucas. One day they will fail you."

"Maybe, but that day has yet to come."

"Lucas." Alice approached him from the other side. Her face was creased with lines of worry. "Please don't do this. Think about everyone else. What will we do without you?"

"You speak as if my death is assured."

"If it comes across that way, I am sorry. Use your head, Lucas. Johannes has been alive for hundreds of years. He is more powerful than any of us can imagine. He's a master of magic at more levels than one. You saw him in the caves, when he tore that boar in half with his bare hands. You will not stand a chance, even with you Muggle weapons." She grabbed his arm and held it tightly, tears glistening in her eyes. "Don't do this."

"It's too late to turn back now."

"No it isn't. We can leave before he arrives."

"And then what? The news will spread that I ran from a duel with him. That will be great for the Ministry. Their star Auror turned tail and fled from an ancient werewolf. No thanks. I'd rather take my chances fighting Johannes."

"Are you sure?"

"How many times do I need to say it?" Vandermine frowned and pointed up at the sky. "Here he comes. Find cover."

Frank and Alice scrambled back to their original spot. Once they were behind cover, Lucas strode into the middle of the clearing. He raised his wand in defiance as three dark clouds rushed towards him. The clouds were black as midnight and shaped like spears. Smoke trailed behind them as they zoomed between the trees, leaving inky patterns between the branches.

"We'll guard your back," Frank whispered from his covered position.

"No you won't." Vandermine flicked his wand back toward Frank and Alice. Harry heard the words "Petrificus Totalus," and, "Silencio!"

"What did he just do?"

"He just pinned my mom and dad down. He's taking this one on his own."

"Why did he do that?"

"Maybe he wanted to test his skills? None of us know."

The three clouds swirled around the edge of the clearing, moving in a fast closing circle above Vandermine. The smoke trails thickened and mixed as the clouds tightened together until the sky was blotted out. Only then did Johannes reveal himself.

The clouded figures plummeted from the sky with a blood-chilling roar. When the smoke faded, Vandermine was facing not only Johannes Outrider, but two hulking werewolves. The werewolves snarled and growled at him, but he ignored them, focusing only on the middle figure.

Hundreds of years of Dark Magic and the werewolf curse had altered Johannes Outrider beyond humanity. He was a giant half-man, easily nine feet tall. His body had been irrecoverably twisted. Now he looked more wolf than human. Although he stood tall on two feet and wore clothes as a human, his skin was covered in fur. His face had taken a distinct canine appearance, with a snout and large ears to boot. When Harry thought about it, Johannes looked more like a nine-foot tall wolf than a human.

"So," Johannes began, in a voice that was surprisingly deep and humane, "the pride of the Ministry kept his word. For that you must be rare among your kind."

"They are your kind too."

Johannes let out a rough barking laugh. "_My kind!_ They are not worthy of such a distinction. They are weak, and deserve to die."

"All of the Ministry?"

"The Ministry is a sham, it deserves to fall! The scum all deserve to die!"

"Even the innocent? Do they deserve this?"

"There is no innocence in the Ministry! They are all the same. Them and their _justice_," Johannes spat out the last word as if it pained him.

"I spent forty years working for them, hunting down 'law-breakers' and 'criminals.' Then what happened? I was bitten by a werewolf. Those who I had served so faithfully turned their backs on me, throwing me out to the wild. They sent _my own children_ after me!"

"You cannot blame the current generation for the faults of their ancestors."

"I can do what I want. Just watch me."

Johannes lunged forward, hoping to crush Vandermine in one move. Vandermine dove to the side, avoiding his swiping claws. He hit the ground in a somersault and came up with a brace of pistols in his hands. He pulled each trigger once, and the werewolves that had accompanied Johannes screamed in pain as the silver bullets penetrated their skin, burning away their flesh. They twitched in agony and fell lifeless to the ground.

"Your reign of terror is at an end, Johannes!" Vandermine shifted his aim to Johannes, but the wizard was too fast. Both bullets missed as he hurled himself thirty feet straight upwards. Vandermine leapt after him, firing continuously at the fleet figure. Johannes dodged most of the bullets, twisting and spinning in the air. One of the bullets caught him in the shoulder however, and he fell to the ground with a cry of agony.

Vandermine holstered his pistols and approached the fallen form confidently, grinning smugly. He rolled Johannes onto his back and stared into his empty eyes.

"Better luck next time, Johannes."

A single muscle twitch was all the warning Vandermine received. Johannes' right arm was a blur as it flew from the ground, connecting solidly with his stomach. The force of the blow threw Vandermine across the clearing. Vandermine cast a Feather charm in midair, coating the incoming trees with pillows. He hit them hard and dropped the ground, gasping in pain.

"I thought you were a smart wizard," Johannes snarled. "I am only half-werewolf. Silver is nothing more than an annoyance." He roared loudly and charged forward again.

Vandermine emptied his remaining pistol rounds into the approaching hulk, grimacing as the rounds punctured Johannes' skin without doing any damage. He dropped the pistols when his clips ran dry and scampered up the tree to get some breathing space. Three seconds after he reached the first branch Johannes slammed into the tree. The tree swayed dangerously, shaking like a blade of grass in the wind.

"You cannot hide up there for long, Vandermine!" Johannes rammed into the tree a second time. The trunk cracked and splintered from the impact.

"I won't need to." A blue jet of light streaked down form the tree and exploded on Johannes' head. He screeched in pain and stumbled back from the tree, clutching his aching skull. "How much can you take?"

Johannes backed away from the tree and planted his feet determinedly. In one explosive movement he pushed off the ground and threw his body full-force into the tree. The tree held for a moment before snapping completely in half. Vandermine dove from the tree as it fell, landing on Johannes' back and leaping off again before he could respond. Johannes howled angrily and spun to face him.

"They will turn on you too," Johannes shouted. "The day will come when Lucas Vandermine will be an outlaw and a fugitive!"

"I doubt that, Johannes." Vandermine shot off a handful of Stunning spells. Johannes sidestepped them and spat contemptuously at the ground.

"Using spells now? Too afraid to fight man-to-man?"

"Are you kidding? You'd have all the advantage there."

"Do you not like a challenge?" Johannes reached into a pocket and pulled out a long, black wand. Harry instantly recognized it as Outrider's personal wand. "Let's see how you can dance."

Johannes shot a flurry of spells towards Vandermine. Vandermine rushed towards the incoming projectiles and raised his wand. At the last second he lashed out with his wand, creating an opaque shield. The spells shattered on the shield, creating a mini-fireworks display. When the lights cleared, Vandermine was gone. Johannes snarled at the spot and turned around, searching the trees.

"Hiding, are you? Two can play that game!"

Johannes waved his wand in the air and howled. He took a step forward and disappeared with a loud bang.

'What just happened?" Harry asked Ron.

"He Disapparated."

"What?"

"Just watch."

For the next minute they saw and heard nothing except for the occasional bang as one of the two wizards moved from place to place in the forest. Then, suddenly a torrent of spells rained from a large oak tree on the near side of the clearing. Two figures leapt from the tree, hurling spells at each other while falling away in different directions. Vandermine was firing off spells faster than Harry could count them. A rainbow of light was issuing from his wand as he fired every spell that Harry knew and more. Just before he hit the ground Vandermine disappeared in a small cloud of white smoke. The cloud zipped after Johannes, who had also transformed into a cloud-like figure. Spells shot back and forth as the two clouds flew in and out of the trees, sometimes with Vandermine chasing Johannes, sometimes the other way around. Harry stared openmouthed as the two masters fought. Both were so good and so powerful that neither could hit the other.

They dropped their cloud forms after several minutes of fruitless flying and resumed the fight on the ground. Vandermine and Johannes exchanged volleys of spells at near point blank range, sometimes so close to each other that they were slapping aside the other's wand as often as they were firing. Harry saw Vandermine duck under a particularly vicious punch and roll between Johannes' feet. He came up behind Johannes with his wand aimed square at the wizard's back. Before he could fire however, Johannes spun on his heel and knocked the wand aside so forcefully that Vandermine was thrown to the side. He landed on his feet and fired off a quick spell, which Johannes dodged. Johannes jumped up in the air to get above Vandermine, firing spells blindly. Vandermine leapt up to meet him, and they clashed in midair, punching and kicking as they descended.

Vandermine untangled himself from the resulting spill and ran backwards, firing off spells the whole time. Most of the spells just bounced off Johannes' hide. Johannes charged after him and dove, caws extended and ready for blood. Just before he hit him Vandermine Apparated with a bang. Johannes hit the ground hard and swore. He pushed off the ground and shot after him, moving with inhuman speed from tree to tree. Vandermine stayed one step ahead of him, Apparating in and out of trees and in all directions. Johannes stayed hot on his tail, launching a spell whenever he caught sight of Vandermine's body.

Finally, Johannes caught up with Vandermine. He batted him up in the air with a single swipe and leapt after him. Vandermine recovered from the hit midair and became a blur of motion. As Johannes closed in, he pulled out another wand and faced him head-on. They collided in the air with a dreadful crunch, fighting in the air with wands and fists. Vandermine's body flashed before Johannes' eyes and he appeared behind him, lashing out with his wands. They connected solidly on his head, exploding violently. As Johannes' twisted in mid air to reach him, Vandermine Apparated again, appearing where he had been a moment before. He punched Johannes' in the same spot where he had just hit him with his wands. Johannes tried to turn around again, but Vandermine was gone, appearing to his side. Johannes lashed out with his arm, throwing Vandermine away. As Vandermine flew through the air Johannes Apparated right after him, launching punches and kicks just like Vandermine had done. Vandermine was ready for it though, and he blocked or dodged most of the, Apparating in and out of the danger zone right with Johannes. Soon they were Apparating so quickly that none of the teenagers could follow their movements.

Eventually Vandermine, seeing that this was getting him nowhere, detached from the fight and dropped back to the ground. He stood in the middle of the clearing, chest heaving with exertion. Johannes landed just a few feet away, snarling viciously. They were both bleeding in several places, although Johannes seemed to have received most of the damage.

"You fight well, Vandermine. This is the first good scrap that I've had in a hundred years."

"It'll also be your last."

"You seriously don't think that…" Johannes halted mid-sentence. "What's that?"

Vandermine looked up carefully, not fully taking his eyes off of Johannes. Dozens of black creatures were circling overhead. They were the size of birds, but when Harry looked closer he saw that they were bats. Lots of bats.

"Are those the-"

"Yeah. Those are the vampires."

The bats descended on the two combatants, hissing furiously. They touched down in a circle around them and transformed. In a few seconds Vandermine and Johannes were surrounded by forty vampires.

"You have trespassed on our grounds," one of them declared. It stepped forward and waved its arms dramatically. "These grounds are sacred to our kind."

"Sucks for you then. We're kind of busy right now." Vandermine raised his wand and aimed it at the vampire's chest. "Impedimenta!"

The vampire flew backwards and landed ten feet away with a sickening crunch. The other vampires recoiled, hissing at him dangerously. More than one drew a wand.

"That was a mistake, human." Another one spat. "You will pay with your blood for that."

"I doubt that," Johannes growled. He blasted the vampire with a stunning spell. "He's all mine."

Several of the vampires launched spells at the two figures, but Vandermine and Johannes had already moved. They threw themselves into the nearest vampires, wands flashing like swords. A handful of the vampires fell before they even realized they were being attacked. The rest scattered, leaving a few behind to cover their retreat. What followed was one of the most bizarre three-sided fights any of the teenagers had ever seen. Vandermine and Johannes fought the vampires side-by-side, but they took potshots at each other in the midst of the fray.

Vandermine's movements were graceful and deadly as he moved through the vampire horde. His attacks flowed smoothly from one to the next, creating a dazzling display of combat moves that left nearly every vampire he faced dead within seconds. Johannes used a more blunt approach. His massive arms pounded through the vampire's meager defenses. He batted them aside two at a time, ignoring their feeble attempts to reach his throat. One actually slipped through his guard and was poised to bite his throat, but Vandermine beat it to there, flipping over Johannes' back and shoving his wand down the vampire's throat. The vampire screamed in pain and collapsed to the ground, where Johannes promptly grabbed it and used it as a club to take down two more of its kind.

The vampires' numbers thinned quickly, but they fought with a rugged determination that surprised Harry. When one fell another would step in to take its place. Harry glanced at the sky and noted that more vampires were arriving every minute. Evidently they had stumbled upon some vampire ceremony. This would not be good. He started when he noticed a slight rustle in the brush below them. Frank and Alice were still frozen in place, watching the whole thing with terror. He understood their feeling of helplessness.

Turning back to the battle, Harry caught the tail end of a series of brutal kills by Johannes and Vandermine. Johannes had grabbed Vandermine by the arms and swung around in a circle. Vandermine had used the momentum to kick down any vampires that strayed to close. His boots had metal cleats as the bottom, and several vampires had fallen with broken necks or punctured faces. Johannes let Vandermine go with a jerk and Vandermine sailed into a mob of fresh vampires, wand in one hand, a sharp branch splinter in the other. Screams of agony told Harry that he was putting the wooden splinter to good use.

The battle went on for nearly half an hour. The vampires kept coming until at least a hundred had arrived. By that time though, over half of them were dead. Ashes from the dead vampires had been kicked up so thickly by the struggle that the air had turned black, and Harry couldn't see anything but what happened on the outer edge of the battle.

Suddenly Vandermine and Johannes appeared from the cloud of ash. Both were bleeding profusely and limping with exhaustion. A dozen or so vampires followed close on their heels, giving them no time for rest. Johannes and Vandermine went back to back, each wielding a wand and a wooden stake. They moved in a circle as they fought, blocking up front and striking to the side. Whenever a vampire rushed in for a bite, either Vandermine or Johannes would stab it in the side with a stake. Soon the odds were even, with two vampires facing Vandermine and Johannes. These two vampires were obviously leaders, because they were faster and appeared stronger than the others had been. _Vampire patriarchs_, Harry thought.

Each vampire faced off against a wizard. All four held wands in their hands.

"You will be valuable additions to our family," one of the vampires hissed. "I will enjoy drinking your blood."

Vandermine glanced at Johannes, who was looking at him determinedly. "I'll take the talker. The other's all yours," he said. Johannes growled in acknowledgement and licked his bloody hands.

Four streaks of light shot between the men and an enormous explosion rocked the clearing. Fire and mud flew in all directions, showering the entire area. When the smoke cleared, none of the combatants were still standing. A massive crater filled the clearing, where they had been a moment before. Then, as if in slow motion, the four men rose from the ground, each in a different part of the clearing. All of them were burned and battered, but they showed a resolve to continue the fight that belied their physical appearance.

"You will join us, whether you like it or not!" screamed one of the vampires. "You will be ours!"

"Not on your life!" Johannes bellowed a war cry and lunged for the nearest vampire, closing the gap between them before he could unleash another blast. The other vampire countered his charge with a fireball. The fireball hit Johannes right in the side, hurling him sideways and into a large tree. The tree snapped in half as his body tore through its trunk.

Vandermine was onto the fireball-sender before he could turn. A Stunning Spell caught the vampire in the face. The vampire's head snapped backwards and it toppled to the ground. The other vampire was over it in an instant, straddling the body to protect it from wooden weapons while it recovered. Vandermine launched a pair of hexes its way, but the vampire waved them aside with a Shield-spell.

"Impedimenta!" a streak of light hit the vampire from behind and it stumbled forward. Johannes followed the spell up with a barrage of branches taken from the tree he had felled. The vampire shrieked repeatedly as wooden splinters pierced and flayed its skin. Before it could muster a response, Vandermine had slipped in behind it and finished it off with a thrust from his wand. The vampire faded into ash as it fell, coating his boots in gray dust.

"That was my kill," Johannes growled. He sheathed his wand and stared at Vandermine expectantly.

"My bad," Vandermine wiped the blood off his wand but held it at the ready. He met Johannes' gaze with his own. "What now?"

Johannes held his hands up to show he was unarmed, which did not say much, considering his muscular physique. A low growl escaped his lips.

"It would be a shame to kill you after a fight like this. I actually started to like you."

"The feeling isn't mutual." Vandermine lowered his wand a touch, just enough so that it was not immediately pointing at Johannes' chest. "That was a good scrap though."

"The world is cruel." Johannes sat down on the ground and licked at the wounds on his shoulders. He pointedly ignored the wand aimed at him. "I wish we could have met on more favorable conditions."

"Like what?"

"We could have been a team, you and I. Imagine the power that we could have wielded."

"I would never use my powers against the innocent and helpless."

"So you say now. You are young and foolish, my enemy. In time you will see the difference between revenge and murder."

"There is no difference, Johannes. Revenge is just a name, a cover and excuse for doing evil."

"Ah, but there is a difference." Johannes indicated the ground beside himself. Vandermine made no move to join him.

"You might as well rest before we continue the fight."

"What makes you think I won't take you down right now?"

"You're too honorable. You couldn't strike me down, not while I am sitting here speaking with you."

Vandermine gave no answer to this, but he sheathed his wand and sat down opposite Johannes. He breathed deeply and pulled a flask of medicine from his belt.

"Why did you do it?"

"Why did I do what?"

"Why did you murder the wizards who exiled you?"

Johannes shook his head and gave Vandermine a reproving look. "Isn't it obvious? I was once an Auror, not unlike yourself. I was powerful, an idealist and a do-gooder. I captured hundreds of criminals for the German Ministry. Thanks to my work the Black Death was eradicated from Central Europe and the vampire population was kept under control. I was their… Albus Dumbledore, right?"

"What happened?"

"I took a mission that was too big for me. In my arrogance I chose to tackle a werewolf colony on my own, without help."

"Sounds selfish."

"Not at the time. The Ministry had been under attack from the werewolves for some time. They had few Aurors at their command, and I did not want to risk others' lives. I wanted to handle it myself. Less bodies, less chance of infection."

"So you went in alone."

"All on my own. In fact, I had ordered all the other wizards in the area to leave. That way I could go in without worry of collateral damage. I went in sword swinging. I thought there would be a few dozen of them, I was wrong. There were hundreds of werewolves in the colony. That did not stop me though. I plowed through them like a scythe through wheat, killing all in my path. At the end of the day I had worked my way through the entire colony. Very few escaped alive."

"But you got bitten."

"I didn't realize it until weeks later. At first I thought I was sick. I tried to heal myself through different potions and spells, but nothing worked. Then I realized that the full moon was coming and put the pieces together. I went to the Ministry to explain the problem, to ask for help…" Johannes' voice hardened and he spat at the ground. "The scum arrested me on the spot. They hauled me off to a holding cell to await execution, just like any other werewolf. They did this to _me_! I had been there right arm for forty years! Without me, the land would have been overrun with vampires and werewolves and rouge wizards! They turned on me like I was a, a Dark Wizard."

"What happened next?"

"I broke out that night. One of the guards got in my way and I accidentally killed her. The Ministry put a death sentence on my head, so I had to flee. They hunted me with most of their forces. I had to live as a scavenger for months, constantly avoiding patrols."

"What did you do with your disease?"

Johannes' mouth twitched at the word _disease_. "I learned to embrace it to survive. I allowed it to control me utterly. It gave me power that you cannot comprehend."

"So you used that power to murder those you held responsible for your exile."

"Murder is such a harsh word." His eyes flicked slyly at Vandermine's wand, which was resting comfortably in its holster. "I did nothing to them that they did not deserve. They ruined my life, so I ruined theirs."

"That's pretty twisted semantics."

"Enough of this." Johannes rose from the ground and brushed the dirt off his clothes. "Your talk is beginning to bore me. My past is not your concern, nor are you in a position to judge me."

"So we will end it now? You are ready to die?"

"On the contrary, I have never been more willing to live." Johannes drew his wand and saluted Vandermine. "Let us end this unusual and interesting duel."

"If you insist." Vandermine bent forward to get to his knees. "This'll take a whi-"

The last vampire, the one that had been knocked out by Vandermine's Stunning spell, had lain patiently throughout their discourse. Now, seeing Vandermine vulnerable and within reach, the vampire struck. Razor sharp fangs bit into his throat. The vampire began drinking the blood immediately, sucking desperately to infect him as much as he could. Vandermine struck it in the fave with his wand, but the vampire was latched on too well. A moan escaped his lips and he fell to the ground. The vampire continued sucking up his blood, determined to turn him before it died. And die it did, as Johannes' muscular hand encircled its throat and yanked. Bones snapped and arteries burst as the wolf-man ripped the head clean off the body, howling in rage at the attacker who had stolen his kill. He hurled the headless body at a pile of broken wood.

"What to do with you?" Johannes asked Vandermine, who was lying on the ground gasping for breath.

Vandermine's face was pale from the loss of blood. He struggled to speak, choking on words that refused to come out. Already he could feel the vile disease spreading through his body. Horror was etched on his face as he felt his body changing. It was nearly midnight, and the disease was spreading through his veins like wildfire.

"Kill…me," he croaked. "Make, do it quickly."

"Looking for pity?" Johannes snorted in disgust and grabbed Vandermine by the throat. He lifted him bodily so that they were face to face. "A minute ago you were ready to kill me without mercy."

"So… you." Shudders coursed their way up and down his body.

"Why should I make it quick? No…" Johannes grinned evilly, showing his canine grin. "Imagine the humiliation and irony. Johannes Outrider all over again. I think I will let you live."

"No…" Vandermine's voice had a pleading edge to it. "I'd rather die."

"Then maybe it's best that you do." Johannes reared his head back and laughed. "I will give you an honorable death, Vandermine. You are lucky, for I am rarely so charitable."

Before Vandermine could reply Johannes' head snapped forward. His teeth cut into his throat and he yanked his head back, ripping his throat out. Vandermine's head lolled to the side and Johannes hurled his body aside, chuckling carelessly.

"Lucas!" Frank and Alice Longbottom sprung from their cover, no longer held down by Vandermine's spells. They raised their wands in unison and fired a stream of Stunning spells at Johannes. Johannes stumbled blindly as he took hit after hit until he finally fell, overcome by the barrage of spells. Frank and Alice rushed to Vandermine's side. They cried over his body as they surveyed the damage.

His throat was a bloody mess. Barely enough of it was left for Frank and Alice to know where to start laying down healing spells. They tried anyway, placing potions and applying medicinal bandages in an effort to halt the bleeding. Their work was futile though, and the blood kept pouring out faster than they could replace it.

"Lucas, no!" Alice grabbed his head and cradled it in her arms, trying to stem the flow of blood by keeping it above his chest. "Why did you do it?"

Frank swore as a bandage slipped off the wound, so slick with blood that even the magical adhesives were overwhelmed. He looked around the ground searching for something to help. He paused in horror when he saw part of Vandermine's throat lying on the ground between him and Johannes' body. He stared in horrified fascination at it. Never in his life had he seen such a gruesome sight.

"Frank!"

If he heard the voice he gave no acknowledgment of it. His gaze was fixed on the throat lying on the ground within arms reach. A plan began to form in his mind as he looked from the throat to Vandermine.

"Frank, do something!" Alice's voice was shrill and panicked. Frank snapped out of his shock and tried to suppress his urge to vomit. Wordlessly, he picked up the shredded mess and placed it back in Vandermine's throat. Something like a prayer pushed its way to the background of his thoughts while he searched for the right spell to use.

"_Guttrem Resarci!"_

Harry gasped in surprise as the bloody mess in Vandermine's throat healed. The skin and internal organs in his throat shifted into their correct position and mended back together. The bleeding stopped immediately, but Vandermine was still as pale as a ghost. He had lost so much blood that even with his throat healed he would probably still die. Even as Harry watched, Vandermine's eyes rolled up into his head and he shuddered one final time.

Alice screamed in helpless rage and hugged his body to herself, crying hard. Frank sat motionless, his eyes brimming with tears. A sob escaped his mouth and he leaned forward to comfort his wife.

"Why did he do it?" she asked aloud. Frank did not answer, but held her close, allowing her to bury her head in his shoulder. She sobbed freely, too overcome to do anything else. He hugged her tightly, whispering soothing words in her ear, but tears of his own mingled with hers as he looked into the blank eyes of their friend.

"He didn't deserve this," she whispered in a hoarse voice. "Why did it have to happen to him? Why not one of us?"

They stayed there for several minutes, too overcome with grief to move. None of the teenagers moved either. They watched silently, knowing that he would live but too shocked by the fighting that had taken place in the small, now-ruined patch of forest.

Suddenly, Harry felt a tug on his back, and the scene before them started to fade away. His feet left the ground and he flew upwards. He struggled to stay in the memory, but something stronger than he was pulled him inexorably upwards. The image of the forest grew blurry, and then it disappeared in a swirling mist.

"How did you survive that?" He heard Ron ask. His face was a sickly green color, as if he had just thrown up. Harry looked to his side and saw that Ron had indeed done just that. The smell made his stomach turn, and he gagged as his own lunch tried to force its way out.

Vandermine strode past Harry and replaced the Pensieve in the cabinet. He ignored their questions, brushing them off with grunt. The door back to the hallway opened and he stood by it pointedly.

"It's time for you to leave."

"What happened?" Ron folded his arms over his chest and faced Vandermine stubbornly. "I want to know how you survived that."

"That's a personal matter." Vandermine returned Ron's stare with an intensity that melted his resolve. He lowered his arms and shuffled out of the room with his head low, muttering something about "adults and their blasted secrets." Harry left the room and caught up with Neville, who had left as soon as Vandermine told them too.

"Do you know what happened?"

"Yeah." Neville did not appear to have been nearly as disgusted by the scene, but his eyes were red at the edges. "Lucas made me promise to not tell anyone though."

"Why?"

"Like he said, it's personal. There aren't any big secrets or anything, but he wants his last words with Johannes to be known by as few people as possible."

"His last words with Johannes? Didn't we just see that?"

"No. He recovered in the clearing, before Johannes woke up. He woke him up and spoke with him some more before he killed him."

"What did he say?" When Neville gave him a cross look, Harry shrugged and held his hands up defensively. "I mean, can you tell me the gist of it?"

"Johannes just said some things about his future. He seemed happy when he died, Johannes did. Anyway, he told Lucas some things that… it was almost as if he had prophesied his future."

"How?"

"Simple stuff mostly. About how the Ministry would turn on him and all, but frankly, it wasn't that amazing of a prophecy. Most of it was logical and obvious."

"Can you tell me what he said?"

"Yeah, he said-" Neville stopped abruptly and laughed. His laugh surprised Harry. The old Neville rarely laughed, especially not in a situation like this.

"Nice try, Harry. You almost got me on that one."

"It was worth a try. I'll drop it now, I promise."

"Good."

They slipped back into the reception room seconds before the Ministry officials came back in. They all looked extremely satisfied, although a little shaken. Harry wondered what Judder had shown them. The officials said their goodbyes and left en masse, eager to get back and report their findings to the Ministry. Once they had gone, Judder changed out of his Vandermine-disguise and grabbed a set of keys from behind the front desk.

"Ready to go?" he asked Harry. Harry nodded, albeit a little regretfully. He was not anxious to get back to the Dursleys.

"After you then." Judder indicated the elevator and they took off. Harry could not remember ever feeling so relieved when they crossed the threshold into the parking lot. It felt good to be out of that building.


	23. The Short Road Home

_"So, you survived. You are full of surprises, Vandermine."_

_"It appears that way, doesn't it."_

_"You know that I was showing mercy. By killing you, I would have spared you a long and troubled future. You deserved that much. A man as noble and powerful as you does not deserve my fate. Your friends are not as considerate as me."_

_"They did what they thought was right. Life, no matter how troubled, is better than death."_

_"You will become another me, Vandermine. They will fear you and hunt you."_

_"Maybe. You underestimate the hearts of man."_

_"I underestimate nothing! You will see. When you are abandoned, thrown to the wild and branded an outlaw, think about the chance I gave you. Think about the mercy that Johannes Outrider offered you."_

_"If, Johannes, if I am abandoned."_

_There was a flash of light and Johannes died._

_"You will be…"_

Harry sat through most of the car ride home in silence. He wondered what he would tell Hermione about the trip, if she asked. Knowing her, she would want to know all about it, even though she did not go herself. There was not much to tell her that did would make Vandermine look better in her eyes. All that he saw in that building reinforced her beliefs that he was a cruel, heartless killer. Not all of it, actually; the stuff Judder had told him and some stuff from the Pensieve showed otherwise, but she would hardly believe that unless she saw it on her own.

"What did he show you guys?"

"Huh?"

"What did Lucas show you guys? Did he show you all three rooms?"

"Oh… yeah."

"Which did you like the best?"

"The vault."

"Really? Most visitors like the armory or the Sim-room the best."

"The armory was impressive, but I'm not that interested in weapons."

"And the Sim-room?"

"Too much killing. Watching Vandermine going at those, what were they called, orcs? It scared me a little, I guess."

"Why?"

"He seems… I don't know, too violent. When he killed them in the Sim-room, he did it without mercy, without even thinking, it looked like. I've never seen someone that detached and cold. Not even Voldemort's lackeys were that… quiet. They at least spoke and showed emotions. With Vandermine, he just, does it. He killed them all with a straight face, he didn't even blink."

"Lucas doesn't let his emotions get in his way when he fights. It helps in our line of work. Creates less distractions."

"But none of you are that calm. It's inhuman how he does all that without a trace of sorrow, or happiness, or anger, or…"

"You're right, it is inhuman. Lucas has been through hell on this earth. The things that have happened to him have taught him how to completely shut out many things from his life. When you saw him though, was his face blank or did it look a grim?"

"Grim."

"You saw him in deep concentration then. Completely severing your emotions from showing is impossible. He's found a way around that, although it's not a very good option."

"What does he do?"

"Rage. He calls to mind every bad memory that he can. All that anger builds a up like a barrier, protecting his mind from the realities of what surrounds him. By concentrating only on his anger, he can narrow his focus solely onto killing his enemies."

"Does he ever get out of control?"

"yes, but not in the sense that you're thinking of. He never goes wild, but the anger can drive him berserk. That's when his animalistic side starts kicking in. He drops his weapons and chases down his enemies without a weapon. Rip them apart with his bare hands."

"Ugh." Harry glanced into the backseat for a trashcan. His stomach was feeling queasy.

"Sorry about that."

"It's alright, I asked. But how does he do it? There is no way he can focus that much on his own."

"Lucas told me that you found Johannes' wand in the armory."

"Is that how?"

"Yes. Johannes' wand gives him that extra edge of focus. That's why he uses it."

"That can't be the only reason why. I've seen him carrying it around at Hogwarts, I think. Why would he need it then?"

Judder sighed, the kind of sigh that people give when confronted with an unavoidable admission.

"I shouldn't be telling you this."

"I promise I won't tell anyone."

"Yeah, anyone but Ron and Hermione and Neville. Actually, Neville already knows."

"What is it?"

"You heard that Lucas turned his back on magic after he was arrested, right."

"Yeah."

"Well, did anyone tell you that he broke his wand when he did that?"

"He did what?"

"Broke his wand. Snapped it clean in half."

Harry looked down at his own wand. He could not imagine breaking his wand. It was a part of his life, almost like a third arm.

"Breaking your own wand is the closest thing that a wizard can do to sever his connection with magic. It destroys most of your magic abilities."

"Is that what happened to him?"

"Yes. Without Johannes' wand, he can barely lift a feather."

"Why does Johannes' wand matter?"

"A couple reasons. First, Johannes' wand is immensely powerful. There are very few wands in existence that are as powerful as that one. It's had hundreds of years of magic poured into it. You can't imagine how much that wand can do."

"Is it unbeatable?"

"Oh no, it can be beaten just as easily as the next wand. Its spells, however, are some of the most powerful in the world. Use it more than a few times in succession and it'll start draining your strength."

"That's not very useful then, is it?"

"He never needs more than a few."

"True. What's the other reason?"

"Back when Johannes was alive, he gave his wand the power to control his transformations. When Lucas has it, he does not suffer any of the effects of vampirism or being part-werewolf."

"Huh? I thought that those effects were counteracted by the poison."

"Not totally. Without the wand, he gets sick in sunlight, can't eat garlic and is repulsed by crosses. All the usual vampire stuff. And he still changes on full moons."

"But Johannes' wand counteracts that."

"Yeah. The tradeoff is that his mind is poisoned by Johannes' wand. I'm sure you felt it at least try to enter your mind."

"It did. But Vandermine said it did not bother him anymore."

"Do you believe that?"

"No."

Judder nodded approvingly. "If it really isn't bothering him, that means that it has already affected him enough that he can't feel it working on him."

"What does it do to him?"

"When Lucas doesn't have the wand, he picks fights with people and is constantly cranky. When he does have the wand, he is calmer, cynical and sarcastic."

"But what does it _do_ to him? Anything more specific?"

"Like what? Is it killing him inside? Not literally, but its eating away his humanity. Ever since he started wielding the wand, his transformations have not occurred as often or as dangerously, but he has become harder to reach. He spends a lot of time brooding on his past."

"Does he realize that it is affected him?"

"If he does, he's not rejecting it. I've tried to convince him to let it go before. He almost attacked me one of those times."

"Seriously?"

"It is definitely doing something to him." The car pulled into the driveway of Number 4, Privet Drive. Harry sighed regretfully and hopped out of the car. He could already see Aunt Petunia glaring at him through the window.

"Oh, Harry." Judder came out of the car and went to knock on the door. While they waited for the Dursleys to open it, he gave Harry a grave look.

"If anyone but Ron and Hermione ask, we did not have those conversations in the car. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I guess." The door opened to reveal Uncle Vernon's scowling features. Harry was not the only one who wanted himself out of that house. "Hello Uncle Vernon."

"It's good to see you back," he said, although in a strained voice. His eyes glanced nervously to the wand protruding not-so- subtly from Judder's belt. He scanned the nearby houses quickly, making sure that none of the neighbors were watching.

"Come in, blast it, before anyone sees that… that _thing_."

He ushered him in quickly, eyes flicking nervously from house to house. Judder bowed his head respectfully and returned to his car. Harry waved as he backed out of the driveway and disappeared down the road. Once he was sure that no one had seen them enter, he rounded on Harry, face glowing with anger.

"What were you thinking, you stupid boy! Walking around in plain sight with a maniac like that, really!"

"What do you mean walking around in plain sight? We walked from the car to the door, and he hid his wand."

"_Don't use that word_!" Vernon's face turned purple. "You were trying to get noticed, weren't you. He was not hiding his wand in the slightest."

Harry shook his head and gave an exasperated sigh. "Fine, you're right. We were trying to get noticed. In fact, there's a group of fifty wizards coming over for a party tonight. We'll be playing Exploding Snaps on the front lawn."

"What?" The color drained from Vernon's face. "You can't be… That preposterous! I won't allow it."

"Not that you could, but…" Harry shrugged and started up the stairs. "I'll be in my room writing a letter to my godfather. They should be arriving in about an hour or so."

He smiled to himself as Vernon's sputtered complaints reached his ears. Ever since he told Vernon and Petunia about Sirius life had become much more bearable at the Dursleys. That was not saying much, but he could now enjoy the occasional poke and sass.

"Just kidding." He called down before entering his room. A string of expletives followed him into his bedroom.

His room was in exactly the same setup as when he had left. His books were stacked neatly on his desk, Hedwig sat calmly in her cage, staring unblinkingly at him.

"Yes, Hedwig, I'm back." He put his fingers through the cage and she nipped affectionately at them. "I'm glad to be back."


	24. The New Girl

The rest of Harry's summer rushed past faster than usual. The Quidditch Tournament came and went, with all its scare and bustle, he got to spend his last days of summer break at the Weasley's, his scar hurt. The memory of his vision of Voldemort shook him more than he admitted. The thought that Voldemort could return was terrifying.

But none of these things were on Harry's mind as he entered Hogwarts on the first day of school. Even with the rain pouring down and soaking his clothes, a feeling of warmth and happiness sprung up in his chest as he passed under the arches of his school. Just being back in Hogwarts made him feel like he was flying on clouds. Ever since he had first set foot here, Harry had always thought of Hogwarts as his home away from home. This was the start of his fourth year, but he already had more memories of this place than he could count.

After drying off in the entryway, Harry Hermione and Ron started for the Great Hall. They spoke a little on the way, but they were too busy warming up to keep a real conversation going. The short walk seemed to take forever. They had almost made it when Seamus came running up to them, gasping breathlessly and dripping water from head to foot.

"Harry! Have you guys seen her? Did you see her in the train?"

"What?" Hermione took a step back to avoid water droplets as Seamus shook himself like a dog, spraying water on a passing third-year. "Did we see who?"

"Her. Have you seen her yet?"

Harry grabbed Seamus' arm and turned him so that he could look him in the eye. "Seamus, what are you talking about? Who is this person?"

"Neville's girlfriend!"

Harry's eyes widened in shock. He opened his mouth to speak but stopped, having nothing to say. He heard Ron make a choking noise as if he had swallowed air down the wrong tube. Hermione scowled, appearing unimpressed.

"Is that it? She's not that big of a deal."

"Are you kidding?" Seamus turned to her with an expression of disbelief. "Of course she's a big deal! Where did he find her, much less get to know her?"

"She's a girl, Seamus. They're found everywhere on the planet."

"Not like this, they aren't. She is… man, she's on fire! Just look at her legs-"

Hermione's eyes flashed dangerously. "She's a human being, Seamus. The least you can do is treat her with respect."

"I am! Those Bulgarian veela have nothing on this chick."

"Looks aren't everything, Seamus."

"Really? They seemed good enough with Lockhart!"

"Alright, that's enough." Hermione and Seamus both went for their wands. Harry separated the two and looked from one to the other. "Calm down. Don't start a fight out here. Snape might be around."

Seamus lowered his wand and laughed. "Yeah, whatever. It doesn't matter. Lockhart's old hat anyway. Sorry." He held out his hand.

"It's fine." Hermione put her wand away with a huff. Her cheeks turned slightly red as she shook it. "I overreacted."

"That's better." Harry sighed inwardly. Whoever this girl was, she was already getting to Hermione. That, or Hermione was edgy after the Cup.

"Neville's _what_?" Ron started as if he had just woken up.

"His girlfriend." Seamus shook his head and grinned at their surprised looks. "I didn't believe it either until I saw her for myself. I mean, whoa, she is smoking hot."

Hermione rolled her eyes and grabbed Harry by the arm. "Whatever, come on Harry, Ron. Let's go the Great Hall. It's freezing out here."

"Wait a second," Ron refused to budge. He stared at Hermione with a mix of pain and surprise. "You knew about her and didn't tell us?"

"You'll meet her anyway. She's staying with Gryffindor for the year. Let's go."

"In a minute." Ron stepped closer to Seamus, and crossed his arms over his chest. "Where is Neville? I want to meet this 'girlfriend' of his."

"_Ron!_"

"Oh, fine, I'm coming." He grunted in annoyance and turned to head after Harry and Hermione. As he caught up with Harry, he coughed loudly. The noise that came out sounded oddly like the word "Jealous!" Harry stifled a laugh. He reached into his pocket for his wand to make sure it was dry. His wand was gone!

_That's twice in one summer, stupid_, he thought. _How can you be this dumb?_

He excused himself from Ron and Hermione, and hurried back in the direction of the entrance. Hermione watched him until he rounded the corner, glaring at him suspiciously. He ran down the hallway, slipping between clumps of soaking students and searching the area for a fallen wand. It was nowhere to be found. By the time he reached the main doors, he was growing frantic. He asked several passing students if they had seen his wand. They all said no, and shook their heads at his absentmindedness.

"Harry! There you are."

He turned when he heard Neville. Two things registered in his mind as he saw him. One, Neville had his wand, and two, right behind him was one of the most stunning girls he had ever seen.

She was Harry's height, with a petite frame. Her blond hair fell in her face, while she repeatedly brushed it away with thin fingertips. He swallowed hard; there was no denying that this girl was beautiful, if a bit on the slender side. Actually, beautiful did not quite fit. A goddess was the term that came to mind as she approached, her eyes glowing in the lantern-light.

"You dropped your wand." Neville handed it to Harry, who took it slowly. He was shocked by the girl standing beside Neville. Seamus had told him she was pretty and all, but nothing that Seamus told him could have prepared him for meeting her face to face.

"Harry, you alright?"

"What?" he tore his gaze away from the girl and faced Neville, who was eying him curiously. "Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks for getting my wand for me." His eyes darted back to the girl. As if on cue, she took a step forward.

"Hi, I'm Megan." She extended a hand and smiled at him. His stomach lurched as he met her gaze.

"_Parryhotter_." Blood rushed to his cheeks and he bit his lip. "I mean, Harry Potter."

Megan giggled at his embarrassment. "Nice to meet you. Neville's told me a lot about you."

"S'nice to meet you too." He turned away for a second and scanned the hallway, willing his cheeks to turn back to the normal color. "You new here? I don't remember seeing you here before."

"Yeah, this is my firs today here. I'm American; foreign exchange student."

He nodded, still not wanting to turn back to face them. His cheeks were burning red. He wished that someone would come over. Anyone, even Draco. Anything to take her eyes off of him.

"Neville's family and mine go back a ways," she was saying. "I stayed at his house this summer. It's a great place. You been there before?"

"Not yet."

"That's a shame. His Gran's a wonderful lady. And he's got a cool collection of magical plants." She put her arm around Neville's shoulders. Neville blushed a little as she did it, as if he was not comfortable with the compliment.

"Really? You never told me you were that interested in plants."

"Uh…" Neville shrugged. "It never came up."

"True." Harry gave them a lopsided grin. "So, why are you in England this year? Don't you have your own school in America?"

"We do. We've got about a dozen actually. My parents wanted me to have a more rounded education though. In America, we incorporate a lot of normal stuff into our schools." She paused when he gave her curious look. "_Muggle stuff_, as you'd call it. We do mathematics and physical education, and normal sports. My dad insisted that I get at least at few years of classical learning under my belt before I graduate. We don't do much pure magic in the States. All of it is connected with something normal."

"What kind of magic do you learn?"

"All kinds. Probably the same as you guys, but we focus more on how we can integrate that into our daily lives as normal people and get away with it. Stuff like lightening bags and such. Stuff that no one would notice. We also have a good ATC."

"What's an ATC?"

"Auror Training Course. It's the most popular course, but it's also the hardest. It is heavy on conditioning and squad-sized tactics and dueling. My dad used to be an instructor at my school in that course. He was the best we'd ever had. He drove us hard, always pushing us to our limits. He revolutionized the course in the six years that he was there."

"Who is you dad? He sounds like a pretty cool guy."

"I think you know him. Does the name Judder McDouglass ring a bell?"

"Judder? As in, the Judder who is Vandermine's partner?"

"Exactly." She smiled at his bewildered look. "Never told you about me, did he? That figures. He's always really busy with work. I rarely saw him once he joined up with Mr. Vandermine. It's been three years since I last talked to him." The smile on her face died away and she stared at her feet. She sounded embarrassed.

"That must be hard, not talking to your father."

"Yeah. Last year he started sending me letters again. It was good to hear from him. He told me all about Hogwarts and the creatures and the students. He told me a lot about you and your friends; Ron and um… what's her name."

"Hermione."

"Yeah, her. He wrote to my mom and convinced her to let me come over here for a year or two to study. She didn't think it was a good idea, but he insisted. I'm glad he did. This is a cool country. There's so much magic and history here. It's so different from the States. Back home there's too little magic and too much normality. No magical ruins or anything."

"Uh-huh." He glanced at his watch, wishing that it hadn't broken long ago. "We need to go. Dinner will start soon. Ron and Hermione are waiting for me."

"Could we join you?"

"Sure." He turned towards the Great Hall and waved his arm. "It's this way."

They hurried down the hallway. Thankfully, the feast had not started yet. Harry showed them to the spot where Ron and Hermione were waiting. Ron nearly fell out of his chair when Harry introduced Megan to him. His face turned a color that matched his red hair as she shook his hand. She winked playfully back at him, causing him to blush even further. Hermione glared at Harry when Megan was not looking. She did not appeared very pleased that he had invited them to sit nearby. When Harry introduced her, she welcomed Megan with a cold 'hello,' and that was all. Megan took it in stride, returning the greeting with an exaggerated grace that made Hermione glower angrily.

"Sorry," Harry whispered as he took his seat beside Hermione. Hermione ignored him, focusing on the Sorting Hat and the new students being called out.

"I thought you went looking for your wand," she muttered accusingly. "Looks like your catch was just a tad bit bigger."

"Neville found my wand and returned it, that's all. Honestly, I didn't go back to look for Megan."

"Wow, you're on first name terms with her already. Any plans in mind that I need to know about?"

"Hermione, stop being thick. You know as well as I do that I'm not interested. She's Neville's girl anyway."

"I'm sure you could get her if you wanted. Just use your fame card and 'poof,' she's all yours. American girls always go for the famous ones, right?"

"Sounds like someone's jealous." Ron leaned in across the table, winking at Harry when Hermione scoffed and looked away. "Why do you not like her so much? She's not bad at all."

"That's precisely why I don't like her. All you boys are drooling over her because of her body. She's enjoying all the attention." Hermione pointed over at her subtly enough that only Harry and Ron could see it. "See her now? Look at how's she's enjoying it."

Harry and Ron turned to look, being careful to not be too obvious. A whole gang of Gryffindor boys were ogling her with what they thought were discreet stares. Megan was eating her food slowly, shaking slightly as she tried to not laugh. Every few seconds she would purposefully look in their direction, and all the heads would immediately turn away before they thought she would see them. A handful of the boys knocked heads with those beside them, they were turning so fast. She giggled as they stared shamefacedly at the floor, rubbing their sore heads. Neville did not seem to mind, because he joined in with her laughter and exchanged a few comments in hushed tones with her.

"She's playing with Neville."

"I doubt it. Neville's smart enough to know when he's getting played. He looks like he enjoying it just as much as she is."

"Well, she's probably going to get him in some kind of trouble."

"Like what?"

"Draco." She nodded in the direction of the Slytherin table. Draco was glaring at Neville from across the room. He looked incensed that Neville had a girlfriend. Harry noted that Draco was also sizing up Megan when she wasn't looking his direction. He definitely appeared interested.

"Yeah, that could be a problem." Ron frowned and looked at Neville again. "That could be a big problem."

"Precisely." Hermione gave a sort-of grin and poked Harry in the shoulder. "That girl's trouble. Stay away from her."

"I don't think she'll be too much trouble. Her dad wouldn't let her be a problem, I don't think."

"Really? How could he do that? Doesn't he live all the way in America?"

"Actually, he's right there." Harry pointed over to the teacher's table, where Judder was sitting right by Professor Flitwick. The two were having an animated conversation about who knew what, but from the way they were gesturing Harry guessed that it had something to do with one of their classes.

"Who?"

"Judder. She's his daughter."

"He's married?" Hermione's eyes widened in surprise. Her shoulders slumped and she whistled.

"What, hopes crushed?" Ron's smirk was erased when Hermione kicked him under the table. He winced and rubbed at his shin. "Ow."

"Shut up."

Ron grinned and held up his hands in submission. "Alright. I'll stop."

"I merely meant that he doesn't look it. How old is he?"

"Thirties, maybe." Harry glanced back at Megan. She just seemed to have noticed Judder, because she was squirming in her seat, straining to catch his eye. He did not notice her however, and she gave up in frustration.

"They're not that close though."

"Obviously. They live on different continents."

"I mean, they don't talk much."

"Oh." Ron started to say something, but he stopped as Dumbledore rose to give his speech. He mouthed the words 'later' and they settled back, ready to face the new year.


	25. Draco Problems

_He glanced out the window sullenly, scanning the area for trouble. The lady downstairs had told him about the police's visit. He took the warning as a sign that it was time to move on. He had been doing this for a year now. Move to a town, clean up the streets, move to the next one when thing got to hot. Life was good this way; free from the Ministry, free from any responsibility. He could deal with his problems on his own time. There was nothing holding him back from giving the scum of the earth what they deserved._

_"You will be…" That is what Johannes had told him. Even as he died, Johannes won. Now he himself was no more than another Johannes Outrider. An outlaw from both worlds, cursed and alone._

_He stroked the stock of his rifle. The cold metal was painfully refreshing. Somewhere on the block, a woman screamed. Judging by the direction of the voice, it was a street robbery. He looked down at the magazine resting in his hand. Thirty-one bullets, thirty-one messengers of death and vengeance._

_It was time to kill._

Hermione's words about Megan being trouble proved prophetic.

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Megan were walking back to the Gryffindor common-room after the Dark Arts class, none in the mood to talk. Seeing Neville that shaken had unnerved Harry, and he saw just from glancing at Ron and Hermione that it had upset them too. Megan's face was harder to read. She kept her thoughts hidden behind an impassive mask.

"He should not have done that," Hermione finally said. "That was wrong, especially with Neville. Did you see-"

"We all saw it Hermione." Ron's face had an ashen hue to it. His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration. "That was pretty sick."

"Why do you think it bothered Neville so much? I mean, it was horrible, but he took it really hard." Harry looked up at Megan, hoping to get an answer.

"Neville's a gentle kid." Megan straightened the hem of her robe as she walked, avoiding their curious looks. "He knows more about those curses than you'd guess. Seeing suffering and pain like that frightens him; can't bring himself to face it. He's a little naïve that way."

"Naïve?" Hermione glared at Megan and shook her head. "You didn't seem bothered by it at all. Why is that?"

"Yeah, well, we learned that stuff back in the States." Before they could respond she quickened her pace. Harry had to break into a run to catch up with her.

"You already learned it?"

"Yeah. Three years ago."

"Three years? That was your first year, right?"

"Second," she corrected him with a grim smile. "We start earlier than you do. We were shown that and a whole lot more in the Auror Training Course. It was one of the first things we did. Judd… my dad thought that it would be best to show us what we were facing up front. I remember how he used it to weed out the kids who didn't really want to be there. In my class we had fifty kids going into that day. The next day there were only two dozen."

"Did he use the spells on you? Like Moody did?"

"Yes. We weren't graded or anything. He just did it to give us a taste of what we'd be fighting."

"And that many dropped out because they failed to fight the Imperius curse?"

"It wasn't the Imperius curse that made them drop out." Megan shuddered slightly and brushed her hair back to show a thin scar on the side of her neck. "I got this when I hit a table edge. I was spasming so hard I couldn't even feel it slice the muscle. You saw what it did to the spider. Be glad you don't know what that feels like."

Harry froze mid-step, horrified. "They used the Cruciatus curse on you?"

"On every single one of us."

"Isn't that illegal?"

"Yes and no. The instructors of the Auror Training Course are authorized to do anything as long as it does not threaten our lives. Sometimes they get a little carried away, but no ones ever died from it. Got hurt, yes, but never killed."

"Who…" Harry shut his mouth when he saw the pained expression she had. Thinking it better to let it go, he only nodded his head. "Must have been harsh."

"You have no idea." She swallowed hard, keeping her head down.

Harry placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. She tensed as it touched her, but she did not brush it off. Hermione and Ron caught up as they rounded the corner to the grand staircase. They both seemed to have recovered completely. Ron's face had returned to its normal color. Hermione frowned when she saw Harry's hand, but she kept her mouth shut. Harry could already see a lecture coming his way once they got into the common room.

"Well, well, it looks like Potter's taken Longbottom's girl."

Harry bristled and turned to face the speaker. Draco was behind them, with Crabbe and Goyle at his side. Draco sneered at them and crossed his arms.

"You have really bad taste," he said to Megan. "Why hang out with those losers? Did they pay you or something?"

Megan cast Harry a curious look. "Who's the a-hole?" She whispered loudly enough for Draco to hear. Draco's face flushed in anger.

"He's just a Slytherin." Ron suppressed a laugh and started for the staircase. "Anybody up for a game of Exploding Snaps?"

Draco's eyes widened in shock as Megan gave him a rude hand gesture. Even Hermione smiled at that one. It was funny to see Draco put in his place. Especially by someone new.

"How's Longbottom?" Draco called out after them. "Still bawling his eyes out? Is that why you ditched him so fast?"

Megan froze on the stairs, jerking Harry to a halt. Her eyes narrowed and she turned to face Draco, who gave them a smug grin. Thinking he had won, he decided to press it further.

"Does he do that at his home too? You'd think a kid like him wouldn't be such a crybaby."

"Say one more word and you'll regret it," she hissed. Her lips were trembling with anger. Harry instinctively reached inside his cloak for his wand. The last thing he wanted was a fight on the second day back.

"What'll you do? We're not allowed to cast spells in the halls. You'd be expelled before it even hits me. Besides, You're outnumbered three to two."

Harry glanced back in surprise, checking the math. Ron and Hermione had continued down the stairs. Evidently they had missed the last exchange. They were outnumbered. Megan, however, did not even flinch at his words. She held her hands out wide, showing herself to be unarmed.

"You want a fight?" She spoke slowly. "I'll take you down without my wand."

Draco howled with laughter at this. Crabbe and Goyle, taking his cue, guffawed stupidly. They looked at each other and shook their heads in disbelief. That was all the break she needed.

She took three quick steps forward and punched Crabbe in the stomach. His laughter turned into a grunt of pain and he stumbled backwards, clutching his gut. She rounded on Goyle before Crabbe hit the ground. His laughter was still dieing on his lips when she raised her foot to waist level and slammed it down just above his knee. He collapsed like a sack of potatoes, groaning in agony and holding his knee.

Draco's face paled rapidly as she advanced on him next. His mouth opened and closed several times. Finally he drew his wand with a shaking hand and pointed it at her. He tried to say something threatening, but it died in his throat. She knocked his wand aside with a backhanded slap. Draco whimpered in fear as she grabbed him by the neck and pinned him against the wall.

"You can insult me all you want, dirtbag. I'm used to it." She snarled. "But if I hear you say one word about Neville, I'll break you legs. Got it?"

Draco nodded quickly, his eyes avoiding hers. His gaze was fixed on Crabbe and Goyle, who were picking themselves slowly off the ground. Both looked dazed and in pain. Harry thought he saw tears forming in Draco's eyes.

"Do you understand?" she demanded. With each syllable she pounded his body against the wall. Now Draco really was crying. He nodded again and let out a wheeze that sounded kind of like a 'yes.'

"How did you do that?" Harry asked as they hurried down the staircase. He glanced nervously behind them as they went, expecting Snape or some other teacher to appear at any moment.

"They left themselves open, so I attacked." She shrugged as if it was no big deal.

"But you, I mean… Crabbe and Goyle! With one hit each."

"They're not that tough." She shrugged again. This time she looked a little embarrassed. "They might look tough and all, but they're mostly flab. You just have to know where to hit them."

"Did you learn that in the Auror Training Course?"

"Just call it the ATC, it's shorter. And no, I did not. We learn hand-to-hand in our third year. It's a core class."

"Looks like you took it to heart."

"I was one of the better ones, yeah. At the end of the year we had a competition that ranked us all. I was in the top five."

"Out of how many?"

"One hundred."

Harry whistled. They approached the Pink Lady's portrait and Harry gave the password.

"You're probably going to get in trouble for that, you know."

"I doubt it."

"Why?"

"Can you see that arrogant prick admitting that he and his pals got beaten by one girl."

Harry mulled over the thought. "Good point."

"Yeah. I have nothing to worry about."

"He'll spread rumors about you."

"Probably." She did not sound bothered by the prospect. "Anyway, I've got more immediate stuff to worry about."

"Like what?"

"Like your friend there looks pretty steamed."

Harry looked up and saw Hermione glaring at him from across the room. Her homework was already out and she was writing so furiously that Harry thought she would set the parchment on fire.

"Steamed?"

"Jealous. You two dating?"

"No." Harry blushed as she looked at him. "We're just friends."

"Oh?"

"Yeah."

She nodded, but her face had a mischievous look on it. "Let's start on the homework."

"Yeah."

Ron beckoned them over to the table where he and Hermione were sitting.

"What took you so long? You guys were right behind us."

"We… um," Harry tried to think of a way to describe what had happened.

"The Malfoy prick needed to be taught some manners."

Ron's eyes lit up with excitement. "Really! What did you do? Weren't Crabbe and Goyle there?"

"She took down Crabbe and Goyle like that." Harry snapped his fingers to show his point. "Then she grabbed Draco and chewed him out."

Ron's mouth dropped open. He regarded Megan with a mixture of awe and admiration.

"And none of the teacher's have come running yet?" Hermione paid Megan little more than a glance, but instead buried her face in a book on Arithmancy. Harry was not too surprised, neither was Megan.

"Draco's too proud to go report it."

"You'd better hope you are right. Otherwise, you could get in serious trouble."

"Coming from the girl who last year cleaned his clock in one hit, I'd take that as a compliment."

Hermione gave Megan an icy stare. Megan returned the gaze with equal intensity. Neither of them backed down an inch. Ron and Harry exchanged nervous looks. Hermione seemed to be wanting a fight, and after seeing Megan in action, Harry was sure she would lose.

The tension broke when the common room door opened and Neville strode in. His face was still pale and he looked weak, but he did not look as bad as he had when they spoke with him outside of the classroom earlier. Megan turned away from Hermione with a sneer and rushed over to Neville, who greeted her warmly. She hugged him and whispered something in his ear that made him laugh. Harry looked from Megan to Hermione. Hermione's face was red with anger as she watched her.

"_Slut!_"

She whispered the words with such venom that Harry dropped his books in shock.

"What?"

"You heard me right." Hermione was anything but apologetic as she looked him in the eye.

"What's eating you?" Ron shook his head in exasperation. "For goodness sake, what's she done to make you so mad? She's only been here for a day."

"And yet she's already got all of the Gryffindor boys ogling her and she's gotten into a fight. What did Draco say to make her mad? Did he insult her makeup?"

"He started making fun of Neville. He was calling him a crybaby and other crap because of Moody's class." Harry frowned at Hermione, hoping to break her angry gaze. It hurt to see her looking at him like that, whether her anger was directed at him or not. It felt like she was blaming him for Megan.

Hermione's eyes softened a little and she looked away from Harry. "Oh, then I guess she's not a total… never mind."

She started picking up her books, mumbling something about going to the girl's dorm, but Harry grabbed her arm and held her in her seat.

"Hermione, calm down." She struggled a little against his arm, but she did not stand up. "What is your problem with her?"

"I…" This time she could not meet his eyes. She stared miserably at her Arithmancy book. For once she did not seem to have an answer ready . She chewed on her lip as she thought about the question. Her hesitation gave him a guess at what the problem was, but he dismissed the idea quickly.

"It's complicated," she finally said. She hung her head glumly and started flipping through the pages of her book.

"We've got time." He lowered his voice and took the seat next to her. Ron did the same, though he looked uncomfortable. "Can you tell us about it?"

"Not… not really."

"What, is it a girl thing?"

"Yeah."

"Is there anything at all that you can tell us?"

"Not right now."

"Alright," Harry squeezed her hand comfortingly. She squeezed back, although weakly. "You have to promise to cool down a bit though. If you can't tell us about it, don't make us suffer through it. It isn't fair to me and Ron."

"I'll try." She wiped her sleeve across her eyes. Harry could not tell if there were tears or not, but it seemed to have a soothing effect on her. She looked at them both and managed to crack a smile.

"Let's start on the homework."

Harry grinned halfheartedly and opened his Potions book. Snape's homework-load had not diminished since the last year. It was going to be a long night.


End file.
